Providence's Helix
by Relena Mishima
Summary: Sequel to Line of Life. Sometimes things don't go like we want, like they should. Sometimes things get twisted beyond anything we ever expected, and not for the better. Voldermort is back and the entire wizarding world knows, Hermione is with Pansy and Harry with Cho. Things should be going well. Why don't they seem to want to?
1. Normal, Everyday Life

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Cho**

Some things about this summer have been surprising, some less so. As I expected, I've been spending as much time out of the house as I could. It's not that I've run away or anything absurd like that; no I'm simply outside. Mainly I'm continuing the exercises and training I was doing for Quidditch at the end of the last school year. It was a simple matter to transfigure some weights to, and of course running, whether distance or sprints, as well as hills to train on took no special measures.

I have no idea if I'll continue this in school; it's likely I'll be named captain of the team, so I could mandate this sort of training for the team. It's certainly had obvious physical benefits: my conditioning, my percentage of body fat, my endurance, my muscle tone, all have improved as a result.

I suppose it would be cliché of me to say it's also given me too much time to think, but the fact of the matter is my mind would be wandering and thinking regardless. Whether working out or studying for my NEWTs (as my parents have repeatedly and emphatically indicated they want me to be doing) my mind always finds a way to wander.

Nothing has changed between my parents and I. One might think it would have, given how last year ended; Umbridge recalled, the Educational Decrees repealed, none of it made a difference. Actually, that's imprecise; none was even spoken of. Though in a way it's unsurprising. For all the fanfare those decrees received and the Ministry's extremely public efforts to reform Hogwarts they were rescinded with nary a word. Partly it was because news of Voldermort's return drowned it out, but mainly it was a face saving measure.

Minister Fudge has spent the summer desperately trying to save his job. I felt it was obviously a losing endeavor, but he tried regardless. Human nature, I suppose. Ironically, one of the ways both he and his potential successors (since the end of his time in office seems a foregone conclusion to all) is to cozy up to everyone who was at the Ministry and helped to uncover Voldermort's return.

First it was a very obvious effort: the Order of Merlin, Second Class. Minister Fudge had us all at the Ministry for the ceremony, a gaudy thing whose obvious purpose was to have him photographed with all of us, giving us medals, shaking our hands and such. Not that I mean to sound unappreciative, it genuinely is a great honor, and unlike some instances of that medal being given out, we actually did do a service for the nation to earn it.

And then there's the instances of this or that special task force or some committee or another reaching out to us for our insights on Death Eaters, their activities or best ways to pursue them. Usually a letter suffices, but there are times where we've been asked to actually go to the Ministry and provide testimony. All a farce of course; none of them cares in the least what we have to say. It's all just so they can get their picture taken with us, so everyone can see how much they care and how hard they're working to keep the nation safe and all that sort of drivel.

Ironically Harry benefits the least from this. It seems old habits die hard, as the saying goes, and after the extended smear campaign against Harry, disdain for him is a very deeply ingrained habit for the government and _The Daily Prophet_ and while they are no longer attacking Harry, he gets few mentions and faint praise when his name actually is raised.

Not surprisingly, Luna gets little mention as well. It isn't personal in her case it's simply a matter of people having actually spoken to her. Luna is not your textbook heroine, and not someone most papers would be eager to interview or quote.

So that leaves only five of us, myself, Hermione, Parkinson (or whatever one would call her now that she lacks a surname), and two Weasley siblings. We're regularly asked to come to the Ministry and consult on some matter or another (their code for asking us to appear in new photographs with them), get interviewed so some quote or another can appear in the paper, or contacted by this wizarding society or that so they can make us honorary member (and thus gain prestige).

At first I felt honored by the attention, basked in it even. I even allowed myself to think it would make a difference somehow. But it quickly became apparent that was not to be. Unlike the attention and adoration that came with winning the Quidditch Cup, this is almost all being used as a prop by others. Certainly the Order of Merlin is a genuine honor, and having my name become a household name is something the narcissist in me loves, but it has almost no practical meaning.

My relationship with my parents is still the same, distant, formal, and certain to go quite badly if I manage to get a contract with a professional Quidditch team. Mainly I try to ignore them this summer; give them their space, and other than the odd cursory greeting or reminder that I should study for my NEWTs, they do the same for me.

My friendship with Mariette Edgecombe is not something either of us has made an effort to repair either, so on the whole it has been a summer with little contact with anyone I actually care to speak to. Today, however, that changes.

Hermione and Parkinson (until I have a better way to refer to her I'll stick with her previous surname) have invited to take me shopping at a Muggle mall, along with Harry. I've never actually been shopping at Muggle stores, so it should be quite an interesting day; I've been looking forward to it since Hermione first suggested it.

I try to pick something to wear that will blend in. I've one really seen Muggles in casual attire going to and from Kings Cross station, and I suspect I'm erring on the side of conservative fashion choices, but as they say, it will have to do. It's a bit of a walk to where I'm meeting Hermione and Parkinson, an intersection of two roads a few miles from my house. Muggles and wizards tending to not live in close proximity (and thus wizarding residences not being on the Muggle road network) has its downsides at times.

I leave the house after breakfast, and get to the rendezvous point just on time. Within a minute Hermione and Parkinson arrive in a Muggle car, which Hermione apparently can operate.

"Hi Cho. Good to see you again." Hermione greets. She looks well enough, and if anything her hair is a bit more under control than last year.

"Heya Chang. Dressing a bit like a nun there, aren't you?" Parkinson asks. The summer has been kind to her; she's let her hair grow out, and her facial features have matured nicely. No more pug comments I think. Parkinson is a legitimately pretty girl now.

"I wasn't sure what would be appropriate for this," I blush a bit.

"Yeah well, we'll we're going shopping so we can get you something better."

"I assume we're picking up Harry first?"

"Yeah, we'll get him on the way."

"He said his relatives probably won't let him go, so we may have to improvise," Hermione states.

"I take it that's a euphemism for something?" I ask.

"Relax, Chang, we got this." Parkinson smirks. I take it that means either there is no plan whatsoever or Parkinson has plans that fit with her own special brand of charm.

It's a bit of a long ride to Harry's house. It's actually a fascinating experience; I've never seen how Muggles live. The population density is shocking;so many homes in such close proximity, many aren't even free standing structures; they share two common walls. I find it hard to understand how they can tolerate it. Of course at Hogwarts everyone has roommates, but I can't think of many wizarding families who would live in such close quarters to another. But then I suppose there aren't nearly as many wizards as there are Muggles.

That's the other thing I can't help but notice: Muggles are numerous to the point of absurdity. Every car we see has Muggles, every store has Muggle customers, every workplace is filled with them, every house is for them to sleep in at night. I've always known Muggles are more numerous than wizards, and going to and from Kings Cross Station every year I see some of Muggle London, but it's hard to grasp from a single journey back and forth just how vast Muggle society is. It's an amazing sight, one I had no idea was there, not in this sort of scale. I suppose it's as they say: I truly do need to get out more.

 **Pansy**

Potter's house is this generic brick piece of crap. Whole street full of them, all the same, just different numbers on them. Yeah, real important people here I'm sure, all full of personality and each sharing two walls with their neighbors.

Hermione parks the car and we all walk to the front door. She rings the doorbell and this fat Muggle answers.

"Hello, we're here to see Harry Potter," Hermione says.

"There's no one here by that name," is the reply. From what Hermione told me, this guy must be Potter's uncle Vernon

"I'm quite sure this is the right house."

"Well it isn't. You've made a mistake." And with that the door is slammed in our faces.

"What a dick," I mutter. Hermione rings the bell again, with no result. She tries once more, still nothing. "Here, let me try." Hermione steps aside and rather than try the bell again, I take out a wand and casts _Alohamora_ on the lock, instantly opening the door.

"W...what?" Vernon sputters, rushing over. "Now see here, this is breaking and entering."

Yeah, like I'm going to take shit from this ass. Before he even gets started with whatever dumb thing he has to say my wand is pointed at the man's throat, shutting him up. "So you do know what this is then. Good, that'll make this simple."

Harry comes down the stairs; probably heard all the ruckus."What's going on here? Hermione? Cho? What are you doing here?"

"I told you Harry, we're going out for the day," Hermione replies.

"Yeah, I know, you said so in your letter. But I told you, I can't go."

"What, this fat sack of crap said no?" I ask.

"He didn't give me permission, no."

"How about now?" I ask the Muggle. "Want us to take Potter and head out? Or maybe you'd like us to spend the day here?"

"Um, no, no, he can go," he lamely answers.

"Good," I start to lower her wand, but then a thought hits me and I aim it at the fat bastard again. "Tell me something, you give Potter an allowance?"

"An allowance? What, no, of course not."

"Thought so. Fine, hand over your wallet."

"You're robbing me? I won't have it. Wait, aren't you too young to do magic? I thought that was a law with your freaks, underage magic or some such. You can't do more than point that stick at me, can you?"

"Um, maybe he's right and you should calm down," Potter tries to interrupt me.

"Quiet, Potter," I don't bother sparing him a glance. "And you, Muggle, you're right, underage magic is illegal. But do you know how they know if an underage witch casts a spell? It's called The Trace. It's a spell put on your wand when you get it. It notifies the Ministry when the wand is used, and if it's in a place you shouldn't be casting, they come down on you. The Trace decays over time, vanishing when you turn seventeen. So if I use my wand, yeah, they'll know. Thing is, this isn't my wand, it's a wand that belonged to a wizard of age. So I can cast whatever the fuck I want and the Ministry won't know shit. So as I was saying, wallet. Now."

Of course the Muggle hands it over. I mean, come on, was there ever any doubt? I start walking out and make it almost all the way to the door before turning back around. "Oh, and just because I use magic don't think I don't know what a credit card is or how they work. If any of these cards gets declined or even takes too long to run I'll be back to make offerings of you all to a dark god."

And with that I'm out of here. Behind me I hear Hermione and Chang telling Potter to follow along, like it isn't obvious he's supposed to. Seriously, what the hell's he think we were here for if not to pick up his lame ass?

"Make offerings of them to a dark god?" Chang starts once we're outside. "Just what kind of impression of us do you think that man is going to have?"

"As people not to fuck with?"

"Maybe. But stealing from him and then threatening him? Is that really wise?"

"Why the hell not? What's he going to do?"

"Make my life miserable when I get back," Potter answers.

"Maybe you should threaten him too then."

"Pansy, please, be nice," Hermione tries to calm things down.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. You know.…" I start. "I'll be nice and calm if you let me drive."

"You don't have a license."

"I would if you hadn't interfered."

"I had to. I couldn't just stand by and let you use the _Imperius_ curse just to get around paperwork issues."

"Wait, you know how to drive a car?" Chang asks.

"Yeah, sure," I answer. "Hermione was old enough to learn over the summer and I'm staying at her place, so when her dad taught her I was around and he taught me too. I'd have gotten that stupid license with Hermione if I had whatever stupid paper crap I need. No birth certificate, what a load of crap. Not my fault Muggles are obsessed with shit like that and wizards aren't."

But of course Hermione won't let me drive. She can be a trouble maker at times, but it's still a hell of a work in progress. Seriously, who gives a fuck if I have a license. Not like I can't deal with some idiot cop if I get pulled over. I'm sure Hermione would freak if I used magic on a cop, but what the hell though. Not like I have much to lose, so why the fuck shouldn't I do what I want?

I behave though, because I really don't want Hermione to freak. I may not have much to lose, but I have her, and damned if I'm going to fuck that up for a damned car. I'll keep asking to do crap like drive and just go from there. Even if Hermione's still too stuck on rules, she's worth it. Even with all the crap it cost me, she's worth it.

The mall is quite a place, a Muggle version of Diagon Alley. I remember when Hermione first took me to one. All those weird stores and crap, it's a hell of a thing. It's obviously Chang's first time; the girl is busy looking everywhere, like she's trying to memorize it all or something.

"Hey, Chang, try not to stare so much, ok? People are going to notice you gawking everywhere," I comment.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," she answers.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione brushes my criticism off. "Pansy was just as bad the first time I took her to a mall."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mutter.

"So where are we going in here?" Chang asks.

"Hmm, maybe getting you something a bit more stylish to wear. So, how adventurous you feeling, Chang?"

"Adventurous, Parkinson?"

"Look, I'm not a Parkinson anymore, so cut it out with that shit, ok? The name's Pansy. We're out like friends, so we can act the part."

"All right, Pansy. I'm Cho, as I'm sure you know. And let's say I'm feeling very adventurous."

"Ah, so we can dress you up however we want?"

"Um, just what exactly are you planning?" Potter asks.

"Relax, Harry, it's just a bit of fun, girls out shopping together and all," Hermione reassures.

"I won't promise to stick with it, but I'll at least see what you come up with," Cho grins. All right, she wants to see how far we can go I guess.

"So Hermione, where should we start?"

Hermione thinks about it for a bit as we walk. "Well Cho did tease about wearing black leather last year."

"Serious? Like just as a look or full on S&M?"

"It was just a tease, but she was alluding to the latter."

"Looks like we've got our starting point." I don't know how far Cho's going to let us go, but I plan to get as much of a show out of this as I can along the way.

I figure my best bet for that show is to go all out from the start. You know, get the shortest skirt, tightest top that's the lowest cut and all that. We go to this big store at one of the ends of the mall and start picking stuff out. We don't let Cho see it, just at the end shove it all in her hands and usher her into a changing room.

"Um, are you sure about this?" Cho asks from inside the changing room.

"What's wrong?" Harry's all concerned and crap. Seriously, it's a changing room. What the hell is there to be worried about?

"It's nothing wrong, per se. It's just, I'm not sure if there shouldn't be more to some of these articles of clothing?" comes Cho's explanation.

"Oh stop complaining and just do it," I yell into the changing room.

"Cho, it's just us, so what's the worst that could happen? It's for fun, no big deal," Hermione tries convincing her.

"All right, I suppose. You all promise not to laugh or anything similar though?" Cho negotiates.

"We promise. Now come on."

After a bit of rustling around Cho finally comes out. She's wearing this tiny black leather miniskirt, and a matching bustier that's closer to one of those sports bra things than a real top. Hell, it even opens in the front, held together with laces, with this nice gap between each side so you can see Cho isn't wearing a bra.

Cho's looking damned fine in that outfit. Top like that is unforgiving, but she makes it work. Ton of cleavage for her wonderfully big tits. Great abs she's showing off too. Skirt's awesome too, nice classic flare to her hips and long legs. She's obviously been working out too from the muscle tone I'm seeing there. The sky high stilettos we stuck her in help too. I may be a pure blood, but in this case, I have to say, fuck their fashion. Muggle black leather like this is where it's at.

"Damn Cho, you make that work," I praise.

"You think so?" she asks.

"Absolutely, you look amazing, Cho," Harry agrees.

"Oh, well then." Cho strikes a few poses, blushing but posing like she's a model or some crap like that. Not that it's so farfetched, the girl's got the body for it.

"I think you should come home with me, Cho, spend a few nights. We can have some real fun together," I grin at Cho.

Hermione clears her throat loudly. "Forgetting someone, dear?"

"Not at all."

"Oh? I'm your girlfriend and we are rather serious. I think that means you don't get to have that sort of fun with anyone but me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You practically propositioned the girl, and in front of me. We're supposed to be exclusive you know," Hermione loudly insists.

"Exclusive? What the hell does that mean? We're together, yeah. But if there's a chance to have sex with a smoking hot chick like Cho there, then hell yeah we should do it. I wasn't going to cheat or anything, I was going to bring her back to share."

"Share?"

"Yeah. Like you said, we're together, so we share. It's not like we can't get someone else if there's a chance, just it's got to be both of us. Like some team adventure kind of thing."

"If this isn't a joke, it isn't very funny," Potter butts in.

"Hey, this is between Hermione and I."

"He's right, Pansy, it isn't that funny," Hermione agrees.

"What's supposed to be funny? People have stuff on the side, why can't we have Cho there? She's plenty hot enough."

"Most couples aren't like that; my parents certainly aren't."

"Yeah, but your parents are weird, all normal and stuff. You don't think both my parents had at least one thing on the side each? Or old Lucius there wasn't getting his knob polished somewhere other than Narcissa's honey hole? That's just how it is."

"No it isn't, not for most people, and I think you know that. You must have heard other people talking, friends, acquaintances in school, things like that?"

"I don't pay attention to that crap. Half of that is probably idiots who are lying or in denial."

"Pansy," Hermione frowns.

"What?"

"I think you know what actually is and isn't normal here."

"Yeah, fine, but so what? You're going to actually tell me you don't want to have a threesome with Cho here? I'm all for it, so what's the hang up here?"

"Hey!" Potter yells. "This isn't funny anymore. Whatever you and Hermione want to do in private is your business, but leave me and Cho out of it."

"I'm right here you know," Cho looks at Harry.

"Yeah, I know."

"So then please don't talk for me."

"What, you want to have sex with Hermione and Parkinson?"

"No, but I am capable of speaking for myself. I appreciate your trying to protect me, but speaking for me when I'm literally standing next to you isn't charming, it's condescending"

"Um, yes," Hermione starts after an awkward silence. "So let's just chalk this up to misunderstandings all around then? Just let it drop and move on?"

So apparently Hermione's hung up on this exclusive couple thing and Potter is overprotective of Cho. I guess I can understand the Potter thing, looking at Cho, yeah, lot to be protective of. Not that I really give a shit about him. Hermione not wanting anything like this though, I'm not sure what to make of that. I guess it's kind of sweet and romantic and crap, which defiantly fits Hermione. On the other hand, it'd be a hell of time we could have. Apparently not though.

In the end we wind up getting Cho a fair bit of stuff, including that black leather thing she modeled for us. I don't know if she'll actually wear the stuff or not, but if she does she'll be the hottest thing in Hogwarts.

True to her reputation she makes us stop at a bookstore so she can go shopping there. She winds up getting a bunch of books, crap on Muggle Asia, you know Japan, China, Korea, that kind of stuff. She also gets some stuff on martial arts of all things; guess Cho wants to learn to beat the crap out of people. Hey, no skin off my back. Hell, we're making Harry carry everything we've bought, and books are damned heavy. Given how much she bought I think maybe Cho really is a sadist.

 **Hermione**

Pansy living here has been nothing like I thought it would be. I once thought of her as every parent's nightmare to have introduced as their child's girlfriend; everything about Pansy says that should be true. Instead my parents love her. Pansy has been polite to a fault; her manners are fit for Buckingham Palace. Of course I knew she was a pure blood so would have been raised with proper manners, but I'd never seen her use them. Around my parents she's polite, well spoken, impeccably mannered, and they absolutely adore her.

I also thought there'd be no end to her complaints about living in a Muggle home and having to deal with technology and so on. Not a one. It took time to teach Pansy the basics of Muggle technology, but she took to it without a complaint. Actually some of it she rather liked.

I thought there was an outside chance Pansy would like some video games, and she does, but she much prefers movies. Specifically American action movies from the 1980's. The pointless, wanton violence, the cheesy one liners, she eats the stuff up.

It's all very odd. Odder still is the fact she hasn't shown any reaction to matters with her family. She hasn't talked to me about it, she hasn't shown outbursts of anger, I haven't heard her crying in her bed at night, nothing. Usually when my parents go to work Pansy and I find our way to the same bed together, but even there, it's like it never happened to her. I'm getting worried.

The closet she's come to showing any inappropriate emotion was with Harry's uncle. I expected she'd make threats and such (she is Pansy after all) but pointing her wand like that scared me a bit. Drawing her wand was something I expected, pointing it in Vernon's direction, again, not unexpected. But to level it at the man's throat, that's what you do when you mean to attack. No, not attack, to kill. It proved idle as threats go, but still.

Stealing the man's wallet was concerning as well. Granted yes, he has abused Harry greatly, practically starves the poor boy has probably spent a tenth of what a responsible guardian would spend on their charge, but still, that's no excuse to steal from him. I know Harry has said other wizards have threatened too, but I'm concerned none the less..

I really should have stopped Pansy, but I'm a bit worried about what she would have done. I know she's dealing with a great deal, and the more you repress and the longer you do it for, the worse it is, and I certainly don't want to contribute to that, but robbing people, even deserving people is hardly the proper outlet. I don't know, I suppose I should have at least said something. Pansy just worries me so much sometimes.

She still is happy to be around me, she smiles and so on, and we enjoy our time together, both in bed and just doing normal couple things, so it's not that she's depressed or completely stifling her emotions somehow. In fact she seemed elated by kittens of all things.

Apparently Crookshanks was rather busy with my parents own cat. So busy that near the end of summer we have four brand new baby kittens in our house.

"Oh wow, they're so cute," Pansy stares at them, looking absolutely amazed.

"They really are," I agree. "I suppose while we're still here I can take two and you take two?"

"What, like to keep?"

"Well yes, of course. They're our cats, after all. We'll have to leave most of them here when we go back to school; I'm taking Crookshanks with me, so I'd leave both of mine, but you could take one of yours with you."

"Only one?"

"Pansy, the rules only allow one. Besides, one kitten is plenty to handle while you're taking classes and whatnot."

"All right, I suppose."

I strongly suspect she plans to sneak both her kittens to school, but there's no point arguing about it now.

There's a lot of ways I've been able to describe Pansy since I first met her. No share of negative words for the first four years I knew her, certainly. Last year the terms became more positive, then even affectionate. Clever, cynical, intelligent, pretty (time is very much Pansy's friend on that front), girlfriend, lover, but never cute, not until now.

Pansy with her kittens is absolutely adorable. The way she plays with them, it's like a little girl: smiling and innocent, I love watching Pansy playing with the kittens almost as much as I enjoy playing with the kittens myself.

"You know you should really name them," I tell Pansy. Her two kittens, a boy and a girl still have no names.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it. Just not good with names I guess. Besides, this way I get to see what they're like, watch them grow a bit then decide."

"That just sounds like a rationalization for being lazy."

"Yeah, whatever. They're my kitties so I can do what I want."

There's no doubt Pansy's kittens have personality: both are adventurers. They love to go all over the place, first exploring the house and then quickly the back yard. They range far, can move fast and love to climb. I suppose that's typical of cats, but it makes them hard to find too. It gets so bad I have to resort to putting a tracer spell on their collars.

We find them hiding in the backyard all over the place, in trees, under bushes, absolutely everywhere, and every afternoon just as it's getting dark Pansy is there asking me to use that tracer spell and find her kittens.

"Hey, Hermione, can you use that spell again?" Pansy asks me, just like every other day. And just like every other day, I do.

I cast the spell, seeing what nook or cranny the mischievous kittens may have gotten to. And just like every other day I find the girl kitten's collar easily enough, but the boy's is different; he's farther, much farther.

"Um, this is odd. It seems like one of your cats got loose from the yard somehow. Actually he's quite a bit farther, wandering around the neighborhood."

"That cat loves his adventure," Pansy grins. "All right, we'd better go get him."

 **Author's Notes:**

So here's the first chapter of this story. I hope everyone is glad to see this sequel and enjoyed this chapter. I'd like to thank that-fan for all his help with this chapter. It took a little work to get the tone of part of it right.

Like every author, I love to get reviews, so if you have something to say, please leave one, they're much appreciated. Thanks.


	2. Kitty Cats and Unpaid Bills

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Harry**

I made a point to avoid Uncle Vernon when I got home from shopping. Actually, I always try to avoid him, but especially now. Parkinson gave me his wallet back, but I just left it on the kitchen table. I doubt he'll see it being returned as any sort of reason to be nice to me,and no matter how scared he may be of Parkinson, I don't think he'll treat me well after her threats; I'm keeping my head down until I get to go to the Burrow.

That plan works pretty well, at least until the day before I'm supposed to get picked up by the Weasleys.

"Boy!" my uncle screams from downstairs. "Get down here."

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" I ask, coming down the stairs.

"Do you have any idea what this is?" he demands, waving an envelope and some papers at me.

"No uncle, I have no idea what that is."

"These are my monthly credit card statements. You and those foul friends of your managed to run up thousands of dollars worth of bills."

"Thousands? But it was just one day." Though come to think of it, some of the stuff was pretty pricey. Some of those heels Pansy kept getting Cho to try on were a few hundred a piece, and I remember carrying quite a lot of them to the car….

"Apparently your vile ilk has no concept of money. Fine, you freaks may be irresponsible, but I work for a living, and I absolutely will not pay this bill; you will. So tomorrow, I expect you to go out and get a job. Every dime you earn will go towards this."

"But I'm supposed to go visit my friends tomorrow."

"Absolutely not. You work. And if you don't repay the bill before you go to that school of yours you will start working again the day you get home. I don't want to see you doing a thing except paying this off. Actually, perhaps two jobs. The only time I expect to see you in this house is to sleep. Is that clear?"

"But uncle," I start.

"No buts. This is final. If you don't like it, blame those friends of yours. Now go find the help wanted ads and start making phone calls."

"Yes uncle." I sigh and go to the kitchen. The paper is in the trash by now, of course, so I have to go looking for it. The help wanted section is under some old coffee grounds. I take the paper out, clean it off as best I can and take it upstairs. I still plan to leave tomorrow, but I have to at least look like I'm going to get a job or things will get worse. So that's my evening, reading a dirty paper and circling ads as if I actually care.

It's early the next morning when I get woken up. It isn't my uncle waking my up though, it's Ron. "Ron? What are you doing here?" I ask, looking around. I see that it's before 5 in the morning, and somehow both Ron and Ginny are in my room.

"We're here to get you, mate," Ron answers. "Figured it'd be better to do it early before the Muggles are awake."

"Hmm, so this is what a boy's room looks like," Ginny says, rifling through the drawers of my dresser.

"Hey, stop that! Don't look through there," I yell.

"Shh," Ron hushes me. "Quiet or you'll wake up the Muggles."

"Yeah, but she's looking through all my stuff."

"I'm helping you pack," Ginny smirks at me, throwing some of my underwear into my trunk. It's creepy how some girls can pull off a smirk like that.

After that shopping trip, I'm pretty sure fighting a girl is a losing battle. Besides, Ginny's probably already seen everything worth seeing. So I decide to try my very best to ignore her. "How are we getting there?"

"Portkey. We'll pack everything up and be on our way," Ron answers.

So pack up my stuff. It's kind of depressing how fast it is to do. I think the girls bought almost as much stuff on that shopping trip. Finally, it's all done and Ron takes out a very tired looking piece of rope. We all take hold, using our other hands for my various possessions. Ron activates the Portkey, and after a moment of that weird inside out sensation we're at the Burrow.

"Oh, Harry, good morning," Mrs. Weasley greets. "Sorry we had to get you so early. We wanted to avoid more trouble with the Muggles though. Hurry and take your things upstairs, breakfast will be ready soon."

After a lot of effort, Ron and I get everything up to his room. "Merlin I wish this house had less stairs," Ron pants. "Oh, Hermione won't be making it here this year."

"Why not?"

"Parkinson," Ron almost spits the name out.

"Oh, that's right, she's staying with Hermione over the summer."

"What, she wormed her way into Hermione's house?"

"Apparently."

"And Hermione still hasn't smartened up? Bloody hell."

"Ron, she did help us at the Ministry. I saw her not long ago and she seemed to still be getting along with Hermione. Sometimes people change, do strange things and stuff."

"What's that mean? What have those two been doing?"

"I don't mean them." I've been wondering how to ask Ron about this all summer. We never got a chance last year, but sooner or later I have to. It's one of those things that you just need an answer to. "Ron, what happened at the end of last year?"

"What do you mean? At the Ministry?"

"No, at the DA."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that," I answer. "When Umbridge broke in, you were with her. And the way Parkinson told it, you were how Umbridge knew where we were. She was an Inquisitor, Ron; she'd know. So what happened?"

"Look, can we just drop this? It's over, right? Umbridge is gone, everything's fine."

"No Ron, we can't just drop it."

"Fine," Ron groans. "What do you want to know? Did I just go to Umbridge and squeal? Hell no. I didn't want to tell her anything, she made me."

"She made you? What, she was going to put you in detention or something?"

"No, if it was just that I'd have told her where to shove it. She was going to change all my Defense Against the Dark Arts grades, make it so I failed the class. Then since she was headmaster, she wasn't going to let me take summer school or something. She was going to just flat out expel me. Then where would I be? She said she'd make sure no other school anywhere took me, and it's not like my family could afford to send me to France or the States or something. That'd have been it, I'd have been done. No job no nothing. What, bus tables at the Leaky Cauldron or something? She was going to ruin my entire life, Harry. What could I do?"

"So you told her everything."

"Of course, I had to. What, you'd have rather I said no? She'd have probably just poured some Veritaserum down my throat and gotten the truth anyway."

"At least you'd have had to make her do that then. Instead you just gave up."

"What's the big deal, mate? She was going to bust everyone either way. It's not like I'm Wormtail here. No one died or anything; it's all fine now."

"You don't see how it's the same thing?"

"No, I don't. No one died; everything went just fine. You-Know-Who's plan got foiled, we all got medals, Umbridge is gone, happy ending all around."

"And how am I suppose to trust you, Ron? How are any of us?" I demand.

"How am I supposed to answer that? I didn't want to tell Umbridge anything. You know I'd never betray you or Hermione or anyone. What was I supposed to do? Just let her take away my entire life and she'd still get what she wanted? It's not like I wanted to do it; she didn't give me any choice."

"Well maybe you should have listened to Hermione and not just taken all those nonsense grades you got."

"She's always telling us stuff. How many times has she wanted us to quit Quidditch so we could have more time to study?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"No, look mate, seriously, I would never do anything to betray you. I wouldn't do that to any of my friends. Umbridge was going to get what she wanted no matter what. Yeah, maybe I should have known things were too good to be true and all that, but by then it was too late; she'd already won, we just didn't know it yet. But you can trust me. Really."

"Breakfast," Mrs. Weasley calls from downstairs.

"So are we all right then?" Ron asks.

"Yeah, I guess so," I answer. I guess it is. I mean, Ron's right, Umbridge played him. I guess it isn't totally his fault. Ok, maybe letting her play him is. I don't know, it's messed up. I just hope it gets better over time.

 **Hermione**

We're tracking Pansy's cat through the neighborhood. He's off on quite the adventure, a good distance away from the house.

"All right, we're close now," I finally announce. "There's an alley ahead, I think he's in there."

"We really have to find how he got out and fix it," Pansy comments.

We round the corner and look into the alley. Sure enough, there's Pansy's cat, being held by someone. There's three of them, actually, all rather hooligan looking in nature.

"Um, excuse me, but I believe you have our cat there," I get their attention.

"Oh, is this yours?" the one holding Pansy's kitten replies.

"Yes, it is."

"Oh, did he get lost? You really should take better care of him."

"We will," I assure. "So if you return him we'll be on our way and you can get back to whatever you were doing."

"He was a lot of trouble to catch. I think we deserve a reward."

I see Pansy tense up next to me, I'm still trying to keep things calm though. "A reward? What, like money?"

"Money's good, but we can get money anytime. I think maybe it's not so interesting here."

"What then?" I ask, worried Pansy's instincts for trouble may be dead on.

"You want the kitty, we want some pussy."

"What the fuck did you say?" Pansy makes no effort to hide the anger in her voice.

"You heard me."

"No, fuck you."

"Not a smart answer, girl. We still have your cat."

"So we have sex with you or you hurt the cat?" I ask.

"Now you're getting it."

"You touch my cat and I'll fucking kill all of you," Pansy threatens.

"Now Pansy, try and keep calm, there's no need to have things get out of hand here. We can just back off and I'm sure they'll let the cat go, there's no need for violence here," I try and calm things down before this gets truly out of hand.

"I'm not leaving my cat."

"Actually, you bitches aren't leaving at all." So much for deescalating the situation. "There's three of us and two of you. Do the math."

"Last chance, let the cat go or you get hurt."

There isn't an counter threat or snappy comeback. The man simply takes his free hand and puts it on the cat's head, twisting hard. I can hear the crack from where I am. He throws the cat's limp body in our direction, where it lands at Pansy's feet.

" _Avada Kedavra_ ," Pansy yells, her wand out almost faster than my eyes can track. The fact he's being attacked doesn't even register on the thug's face before he falls dead.

Pansy get a second spell off right after the first, _Sectumsempra,_ a slashing spell. One of the hooligans is standing sideways to us. The spell catches him across the side of his jaw, completely severing his jaw, and from the sickening blood spurts, her spell cut deep into his throat as well. He'll be dead in seconds.

There's only one opponent left, and I don't want to see him killed as well. " _Bombarda,_ " I cast a kinetic explosion spell. I doubt he knows what's going on, but seeing his friend spewing blood was enough to convince him to turn and run. My spell hits his right knee, the blast collapsing it sideways. He crumples to the ground just as a third spell from Pansy flies overhead; if he'd still been on his feet it would have hit him.

"Pansy, stop," I yell. "You've done enough all ready."

"It's not finished yet."

"Yes it is. His knee is destroyed, even with the best medicine he may never walk again. You've done enough. Please, just stop, it's enough."

Pansy keeps her wand out for a while before finally lowing it. "Fine."

"All right, good, thank you. Now we need to think of some way to deal with this." This is bad, very bad. I have no idea how to handle this. All right, I know how to handle a bit of it at least.

I run over to the still breathing hooligan and cast a quick memory charm. I'm no master of them, so I don't try anything too difficult; rather than replacing or altering his memory of us I simply remove all traces of Pansy, myself, Pansy's cat and everything that just happened in the alley.

"I wiped his memories, but I have no idea what to do about the rest. With all the Death Eaters around who knows if the Ministry will look into violence here or not. If they do they'll realize this was magic. I don't know what we can do about it…."

"They want to find magic? Fine," Pansy raises her wand high into the air. " _Morsmordre._ " Green light flies from Pansy's wand. It rises above the alley and creates the Dark Mark.

"Pansy," I gasp.

"I told you, my parents are Death Eaters. Now come on, let's go."

Pansy picks up the body of her cat and we head out of here as fast as we reasonably can. We don't want to run and look suspicious, but we absolutely want to be gone before anyone shows up. With Voldermort back I doubt anyone will look for suspects, not with the Dark Mark over the crime scene, so we should get away with it. God, how did a missing cat lead to this?

We burry the cat in the backyard when we get home. Pansy doesn't say a word the entire time. Actually, she doesn't say a word the rest of the day; she just shuts herself in her room. When it came to Pansy's parents and what happened at the end of last year I've given Pansy her space. I know she isn't one to lead with her feelings. Actually she tends to use anger and surliness to cover up her feelings. She hasn't done that this summer, she's outright suppressed her feelings, and I've respected that. I assumed when she was ready to talk, she would, so I've been patient, but this is something I just can't leave alone.

It's after midnight, well after my parents are asleep when I knock on Pansy's door. I can see a light coming from under it; I know Pansy is still awake. There's no answer, so I knock again. Still no answer. "Pansy, I'm coming in."

I open the door and quietly go in. Pansy is there, watching some movie or another on the computer in the room.

"Pansy, we need to talk." She still sits there, staring at the screen. "Pansy, please look at me."

She stands up and turns to look at me. The look on her face is unreadable, so neutral it's almost disturbing. "Look, about what happened earlier…." I start.

"Why did they have to do that?" Pansy asks in a small voice. "That cat never did anything to anyone. He'd barely been born."

"I don't know why they did what they did."

"He didn't deserve to die, not like that."

"No, he didn't," I agree. "But I don't think those three guys deserved what happened to them either."

"Why not? You saw what they did. Like it was nothing, like he was just a piece of trash to throw away."

Yes, I know enough psychology to know that people who kill small animals have a very high chance of moving to people. That little gang may well have robbed people, broken into houses, maybe even killed, but even still it wasn't on us to be the ones to stop them. "I know Pansy, but what you did, it isn't ok."

"Why not? Why shouldn't someone do something? When someone is just thrown away like that, how is that ok? How can you just let that happen? Like he was nothing. That kitten was adorable and cute and innocent. But that didn't matter at all. How can someone just throw something away like that?"

"I don't know."

"Someone can just lose everything in an instant. They don't do anything wrong and then just suddenly it's gone." Pansy trails off and I see her neutral look cracking. I rush over to her and by the time I have my arms around her she's crying. "It's not how things are supposed to work."

I don't say anything; I just hold Pansy. Before long she isn't saying anything either, she's just crying and holding on to me as tightly as she can.

 **Ron**

Harry, Ginny and I are meeting Hermione and Cho at Diagon Alley. Oh yeah, and I'm sure Hermione will have Parkinson in tow. Sure enough, the girls are on time; they meet up with us just outside of Gringotts.

"Hey Cho, still dressed like normal?" Parkinson asks after everyone's said hi and all that.

"She should be dressed abnormal?" Ginny asks.

"No, we all went shopping;she got some showy new stuff. Apparently isn't going to wear it though."

"It's not exactly something my parents would approve of, so I'm holding off on wearing any of it we're at Hogwarts. Actually, I didn't even take a lot of it home," Cho answers. "Didn't you notice I wasn't carrying much when you dropped me off?"

"Hmm, good point. So what, left if all in the car or something?"

"Muggle roads don't go to my house, remember? It was too much to easily carry, so I asked Hermione to just bring it to school and I'll get it from her there."

"Huh? Don't remember anyone saying anything about that."

"You were trying on clothes of your own," Hermione points out.

"Oh. Yeah, starting to outgrow some stuff, guess I did get a few things of my own."

"Do you all know the kind of trouble that trip go me in?" Harry interrupts, sounding pretty angry.

"Your uncle was upset about Pansy's threats?" Cho asks. Wait, she and Parkinson are on a first name basis now? So girls go shopping together and they're all friends I guess?

"He didn't like that, but it's not the first time wizards have come in. Not quite as menacing, but it's the money that really got him upset. He got his credit card statement."

"Uh oh," Hermione looks worried.

"What's a credit card statement?" Cho asks.

"You remember all the things we bought with that card in Harry's uncle's wallet? That card is called a credit card, and a credit card statement is the bill for it all."

"The bill?" Cho stops and thinks for a bit. "Oh my. What's the current exchange rate between Muggle and wizard money again?"

"Around ten Muggle dollars to the Galleon."

"So somewhere between three and four hundred Galleons, give or take a few dozen Galleons. Oh,"

"Bloody hell? Three or four hundred Galleons?" I gasp.

"What did you spend all that money on?" Ginny asks.

"Um, skirts, some tops and shoes. Quite a few pairs of shoes actually. Muggle high heels look good," Cho explains.

"Hell yeah, Cho looks amazing in those stilettos," Parkinson agrees. "The right clothes make a huge difference for her. It's really something when you see it.

"Still, perhaps we did lose ourselves in the moment somewhat."

"What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is my uncle is making me pay it all back. He's forcing me to get two jobs until I pay back every dime," Harry frowns.

"What, he thinks you should pay for it all? Tell him to get fucked."

"He's my family, I'm not going to tell him that."

"Why not? He's an asshole. From what Hermione says he's abused you and crap, so why not treat him how he deserves."

"Oh, that would be a wonderful idea. Swear at him and threaten him, and then what? He'd throw me out of the house, literally."

"I thought you were staying with the weasels now. So just live with them full time."

"I can't, I'm not allowed to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Professor Dumbledore won't let me."

"What the hell's he matter? He your dad or something?"

"No, he just… won't let me. I don't know why."

"I've asked about it too," Cho interrupts. "It didn't make any sense to me either."

"So what, he gets shit on because the old man says so? Sounds like he should tell the old bastard to fuck off, and then do the same to his ass of an uncle."

"Of course you'd say that," Harry frowns.

"It works. Don't blame me if you don't have the balls to do it."

"You know, life isn't all about threats and telling people off. I'd have thought living with Hermione you might have learned that, but apparently not. But whatever, you don't seem to care about the trouble you cause anyone. I'm going to go broom shopping; you all can do whatever."

"Harry, I'll come with you," Cho offers.

"No, it's fine. You've got other shopping to do I'm sure. I'll meet up with you all at Flourish and Blotts in a little bit."

Cho looks surprised and kind of hurt, but Harry walks off anyway. I watch him go for a minute before deciding to go after him. I catch up with him just outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Hey, Harry, wait up mate," I call.

"Oh, Ron, hi."

"Everything ok? Cho looked kind of upset when you walked off like that."

"What, because I don't want to go shopping with her? That didn't work out so well last time I tried it. Now I'm stuck working all next summer to pay off that stupid bill."

"You've got lots of gold, don't you? Can't you just turn some of that into Muggle money?"

"Yeah, but my uncle won't care. He's going to do this to me just to punish me, even if I have the money."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You know the worst part? It's like they weren't even sorry. Sure, the girls were surprised how much they spent and all, but you didn't see one of them offering to help pay it back or anything."

"Three or four hundred Galleons is a lot of money."

"I know, and yeah, there's no way they could do it, but they could have at least offered. Instead it was like it just didn't register how bad this was. It barely registered that I was there when they were dragging me around all the stores though, so I guess it's no surprise."

"That's just sort of how girls are, you know? They really get into shopping. Just look at any clothes store, they're full of girls in their own little world."

"Yeah, I guess. It just makes me mad. I mean, Cho's my girlfriend, shouldn't how I feel be a big thing to her?"

"I'm not really the guy to ask about this stuff. I mean, shouldn't you talk to her? At first when you got together you were all nervous and stuff, but it worked. Towards the end of the year though it didn't seem like you two talked much at all. That's kind of important to do, isn't it?"

"Probably. But I can deal with it later. I actually do need to get a new broom."

So we head inside and start looking over what's there. Firebolts are still the best thing on the market, but they're priced like it too.

"Still expensive. You really looking to drop that much gold?" I ask.

"I don't know. What's the alternatives?"

"There's a comet 260. Gin and I have them, Cho used to fly one too."

"That's sort of a big step down from what I'm used to, isn't it? I'm not sure I want to do that."

Yeah, it's a crap broom, I know. Gin and I fly them because it's all our family can afford, not because the thing's any good. "I guess you'd want something a bit faster, yeah. Got to have something at least close to what Cho and Malfoy are flying if we're going to win the cup and all."

"Win the cup? I don't think that's exactly realistic, Ron. We don't have a team. I mean, who actually has experience? You and me, that's it."

"Gin and a few others played for part of last year."

"A month or two doesn't really count."

Yeah, I guess Harry's right, there's no team left at all, just him and me, and I'm not exactly a star player. "So what, we're just going to have a lousy season then?"

"I think it's better if we look at it as a two year plan. We've got two years left at Hogwarts and all, so I think we should plan around that. So this year we build a team and just get people used to working together and the game and stuff. Maybe try and beat Hufflepuff? They've rebuilt after um, after losing their Seeker. But even still, they aren't great, so maybe we can beat them."

"And Ravenclaw and Slytherin?"

"I just don't see us beating them this year. It'd be great if we could, but I don't see how."

"So your girlfriend gets to play Malfoy for the cup again."

"I guess so." All right, Cho is obviously not Harry's favorite topic at the moment.

"So um, anyway, a broom? What about a Nimbus? You had a 2000, that wasn't bad, was it? There's the 2001 too now."

"Malfoy has a 2001; I'm not getting the same broom he has," Yup, definitely some anger in Harry today.

"So a 2000 then?"

"What, have a worse broom than Malfoy? That's bollocks."

"That just leaves the Firebolt then."

"I guess so. Looks like I'll have a lot less gold after today."

Merlin, why can't I ever get to say something like that?

 **Pansy**

I'm a charity case now; I know it. It's pretty fucking terrible, but that's my life. Not even enough gold left to pay for my books; Hermione's family is doing it. They were nice about it and all, gave her enough to pay for us both and just didn't talk about it,so I don't have to beg or shit and can pretend I'm not fucking broke, but it's crap. Not like I could have done anything about it in advance though. Muggles may have those ATM things, but when I decided to ditch my family for Hermione I didn't have any way to get my hands on any extra gold.

My original plan for the summer was to just kind of wander and find some house that was abandoned or for sale or some crap like that and let myself in. Few spells to keep Muggles away and then that'd be it, my house for the summer. Just steal food and shit and wait for summer to end. So yeah, really glad Hermione let me stay with her.

Her parents were cool with it too, which is good. They even taught me to drive and stuff. And Hermione? Hell, she didn't freak out when I started killing people. I mean, talk about good traits in a girlfriend. Who really wants to put up with bitching and whining when you cast a few fatal spells? I sure as hell don't.

Ok, so she sort of did treat it like a big deal and there was going to be some kind of crap or another from it when I kind of just fell apart. I don't know how long it had been since I cried; years I guess. But damn it, that was such bullshit. I mean, fuck, just… killing my cat like that. Even I know that kind of thing isn't right.

I swear it was half the night before I got a hold of myself. Hermione just stayed and held me the whole time. I don't know what it was about it all, but I guess I kind of needed her. I'm not all sappy and stuff (Hermione kind of is), so I've never done any fancy declaration of love, just that scene in the Great Hall, but I guess yeah…. Hermione's told me she loves me, but I've never said it to her. Stuff like that night make me wonder if maybe I should or something.

We never talked about that day since, not the assholes I killed and not the crying and shit. That's fine with me. I don't actually know if Hermione's ok with what happened, but she's at least ok enough with it to have not raised it again or thrown me out or something like that, so as far as I'm concerned that's plenty good enough.

Still, you can be damned sure I've been a lot more careful about my remaining cat. My little kitty has a name now too: Madison. She's a beautiful little gray and black kitten and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to her.

I'd say I have better things to do than let my mind wander like this, but I really don't. Potter ran off and the idiot weasel chased after him, so we're sort of just killing time now. Just walking around, Hermione, me, Cho and the girl weasel. Pretty damned boring. Maybe if we could spend more of Potter's uncle's money it'd be more fun.

I'm bored and looking around for something entertaining. Anything entertaining. If I wasn't, I might not have noticed it. I squeeze Hermione's hand (she's big on hand holding) to get her attention. "Hey, over in the alley over there, somebody's there. I think we're being watched," I whisper.

 **Author's Notes:**

A bit of a hard chapter to write, for I think obvious reasons. thanks to that-fan for all his help, as always. I appreciate it.

Of course I'd also like to thank everyone who reviews. They're much appreciated, and I always welcome more. Thanks.


	3. Business as Usual

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Hermione**

Pansy and I discretely slip away from Cho and Ginny. It isn't that hard, actually. Ginny seems fascinated with finding out how someone can spend so much money on clothes. I suppose it's only natural, when a single pair of shoes can cost as much as an entire wardrobe I see why Ginny would wonder just what makes them so special to justify the price.

I make my way towards an alley, trying to look discrete and take my time. There's a figure in the shadows, wearing a cloak (when are shadowy figures not wearing cloaks?) I stick close to the store fronts, trying to stay in the figure's blind spot before quickly turning the corner, my wand drawn.

The figure sees me and turns to run down the alley, but finds Pansy there, her wand at the ready. While I was taking my time Pansy was circling around to cut off whoever it is exactly like we did.

"All right, who are you?" I demand.

The figure looks back and forth between Pansy and I a few times before finally taking off their hood. Underneath is a beautiful girl, just a year or two older than Pansy and I, with long platinum blonde hair.

"Narcissa," Pansy states.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. "You were supposed to be gone months ago."

"I was gone," she insists. "I'm only here for the day."

"Why? This is one of the worst days to be here; Diagon Alley is full of students and parents. What if someone sees you?"

"I know, but I was careful. Besides, no one would recognize me; I haven't looked like this for years. But even if it is a risk, I had to come; I had to see him…."

Rather than ask who she means I look behind me, back into the flow of people in Diagon Alley. I don't need more than a second or two to realize who Narcissa came to see: Draco and his father are sauntering along with their typical Malfoy attitude.

"I took all I could and left that day," Narcissa explains. "I haven't been back since, but I had to come and see him. I didn't get to then. Even if it's dangerous, I wanted to see him one more time. I know I can't talk to him, but I had to at least see him; he's my son."

"You know I'm pretty sure you're younger now than when you gave birth." Pansy comments.

"Pansy." I admonish

"Yeah, yeah, just saying, that's a girl who's never given birth now."

"No, she's right," Narcissa agrees. "It's strange being young. There's people I know who now I'm far too young to have met, places I remember from a time before I should have been born. I feel like the oldest eighteen-year-old in Britain."

"Perhaps you should try not to focus so much on the past and enjoy your newfound youth?" I suggest.

"I am. It's just, when you're alone; sometimes nostalgia finds you. You must have taken some of that potion with you as well; someday you'll understand."

Narcissa is right, Pansy and I did take some of that potion with us, a great deal actually. I still maintain we should destroy it, but Pansy disagreed. As soon as we were able, we got a vault in Gringotts and put all the potion inside. It was a compromise solution, of sorts. Actually, I suppose it would be more precise to call it a non solution. We locked it up so we could decide what to do about it later. Given how the summer was, however, we never actually got around to talking about it.

"Just, be careful," I advise. "If Pansy noticed you, other people can as well. And say whatever goodbyes you need to today. From a distance of course."

"Afraid if they find out you aren't the heroic killer of Death Eaters the _Prophet_ wrote you as they'll take away those shiny medals of yours?"

"I'm afraid that if our arrangement is found out we all lose." Of course Narcissa loses more than we. She would have a cell at Azkaban waiting for her. Pansy and I would not fare terribly well either, however, likely being branded Death Eater sympathizers and such. Maybe even charges of aiding and abetting terrorists.

"Got to love trust based on the ability to completely fuck everyone over if anyone squeals," Pansy smirks.

"Yes, so let's all be sure to not have anyone find out, shall we?" I give Narcissa a firm look.

"I may not look it, but I'm too old for that look to work," she replies. "Still, I take your point; you don't have to worry about me."

"Good."

 **Ron**

So we're on the train back to school. I guess that's a kind of a good thing? I don't know. Last year was just messed up. Those rubbish grades I got in Defense Against the Dark Arts actually stood, so now my parents are all thinking I'm super good at it and can do it this year too. And if Harry was still upset about the whole end of the DA thing then some of the others probably are too.

The whole end of last year was just dumb. All that rubbish with Umbridge, watching everyone get expelled, Umbridge bragging about how she was going to throw them in Azkaban, then Hermione goes attacking a teacher? That's not supposed to be possible. All that and then at the Ministry I get saved by one of Luna's made up critters? The whole thing was just messed up. Maybe this year will be better.

Of course it isn't totally normal; we're sharing a cabin with Parkinson. Me, Harry, Cho, Hermione and Parkinson. Not long after the train gets going Malfoy comes calling, just barging into our cabin like always. He's an annoying git, but he always does this. It's normal, so I don't really mind so much. Ok, actually I do; he's scum and I'd love it if I never had to see him again.

There's the usual escorts with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and some new chick with him. I don't know her name and I don't particularly care; she was one of the girls who always used to follow Parkinson around.

"Hmm, I do believe I've been replaced," Parkinson smirks. "Hello Daphne."

"Greengrass?" Cho asks.

"That's the one."

"She's from a family that doesn't produce defective whores like you, Pansy." I guess Malfoy isn't even pretending to be civil today.

"Awe, you sound bitter, Draco."

"Bitter? No, I'm not bitter. What I am is going to kill you, you and your mud blooded whore for what you did to my mother. You burn her to death and then get medals like you're heroes, saviors of the Ministry and all that. What a load of crap. Just a pair of fucking murdering cunts in need of putting down."

"Then your mother shouldn't have been a Death Eater," Harry says.

"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy glares at Harry. "This is none of your business. This is between me and the two cunts who killed my mother."

"I do believe that ranks rather high for cliché lines," Cho points out.

"You shut up too, Chang. People who get in my way don't tend to do well."

"Careful, Malfoy. There's no more Inquisition Squad; you're just a prefect now, and that doesn't get far if you want to try and throw your weight around against the Head Girl. That is unless you four want to try a fight right now. If that's the case, just say so. I'm always game for a fun fight," Cho looks kind of eager for a fight actually. Creepy.

Malfoy considers for a bit. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? No, I'll deal with these murderous cunts when they don't expect it, when they're alone."

And with that Malfoy and his group leave, slamming the door behind them.

"Not much for originality, is he?" Cho comments.

"No, but he can be dangerous." Harry states, turning to Hermione. "You and Parkinson killed his mother. Malfoy may not be a fully fledged Death Eater like his father, but he can still be a threat. He probably can cast a killing curse, and he's determined."

"You think he'd go that far?" Hermione wonders.

"You have parents, you tell me."

"Cho buried my dad in rubble and he got tossed in Azkaban, I don't mind at all," Parkinson comments.

"I think your family views are rather unusual, dear," Hermione smiles at Parkinson. Either this is the start of Hermione using pet names for Parkinson (Merlin I hope not) or she's messing with the girl.

"Joking aside," Cho starts "he did sound serious. You both need to be careful. A year is a long time, and the castle is a big place. I'd advise you to not be alone for things like prefect rounds, though that won't be an issue, will it?"

Parkinson and Hermione both blush. Somehow Parkinson is still a prefect in Slytherin. Merlin knows how, she didn't even live there at the end of last year. I'd love to know how the heck Hermione talked McGonagall into that one. Of course I'm a prefect too, and Harry isn't, so I think a lot of this stuff is pretty nutty.

"In all seriousness, do be careful. I haven't had much contact with him outside of Quidditch, but even from just that I can tell you how hate filled Malfoy can be," Cho continues.

"Yeah, we'll be careful," Parkinson yawns. "But now that we've had Draco's obligatory crap, I'm taking a nap; I'm tired."

"It's the middle of the day? What are you tired from?" I ask.

"I was up late on the Internet."

"What's an Internet?"

"It's a Muggle invention, one of their best. It's this thing that brings an infinite amount of pornography, every imaginable fetish and depravity, right to your bedroom. It's amazing."

"What? Infinite pornography?"

"It isn't for that," Hermione interrupts. "It's for instant communications across the world."

"If it isn't for porn why is there so much of that stuff on it?" Parkinson looks at Hermione.

"Because there's a lot of people with minds like yours on computers."

"But this is a real thing?" I want to know. "Muggles really just have all that stuff whenever they want?"

Hermione nods.

"Wow, Muggles are weird."

What's also weird is seeing Parkinson and Hermione together. By the time we're an hour or two into the train ride, Parkinson is asleep, leaning her head on Hermione's shoulder and Hermione has her arm around Parkinson. They look like a real couple. I guess they are, technically.

"What's with that look?" Hermione asks me.

"Nothing, it's just, she looks all nice and sweet and stuff," I answer.

"Who, Pansy?"

"Yeah."

"I've told you, there's a side of her you haven't seen."

"Maybe, I still say she's an evil bitch you should dump though."

"Ronald, I love Pansy and our being together is not something that will change. I plan to be her girlfriend right up until the day when I change my name to Hermione Parkinson."

"You know she isn't a Parkinson anymore, right?" Harry points out.

"Yes, well we'll just have to see about that." I don't know, something about the way she says that is weird. There was a time Hermione never said things like that. Now it's like she's got some evil Parkinson style scheme she's working on.

 **Cho**

Finally, I'm back at the castle. Not that my summer was terrible, but a large part of it was an exercise in hiding who I am and want to be from my parents, so I'm quite glad to be quit of that performance. Instead I'm sitting down at the banquet at the outset of the new school year, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to start his speech.

"Good evening all, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore starts. "I hope you are all as glad to be here as I am. Before we start, I believe we have a bit of business from the end of last year to deal with.

"When I returned to the castle at the end of last year it was quite obvious for all to see from the hourglasses here in the Great Hall that Hufflepuff had a commanding lead in points. As such, I would like to take this opportunity to belatedly award the House Cup for the last school year to House Hufflepuff."

Wait, he's awarding the House Cup based on the hourglasses in the Great Hall? Why? He's the Headmaster, he has access to the master hourglasses in the headmaster's office, why not use those? He must have known the ones in the Great Hall were tampered with, even if he didn't know I was the one who did it. So why do it? A sort of condemnation of the Inquisition Squad (and Slytherin by extension) or perhaps an endorsement of the tampering I did?

Professor Dumbledore continues. "Now as I'm sure all of you know, Voldermort has returned. And yes, as many of you may have seen in the paper, there have been an increasing number of Death Eater attacks over the course of the summer. I want to assure all of you that you are completely safe here at Hogwarts; there is no safer place in all of Britain. Neither Voldermort nor his Death Eaters can harm any of you while you are here.

"Also, there are some changes to the Hogwarts staff for this year. Firstly, I would like to inform everyone that as we have a new potions master this year, Professor Snape will be taking over as our instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I look up at the staff table. It's a bit embarrassing, but with my various friends all vying for my attention, this is the first time I've actually spared more than a cursory glance for the assembled faculty. Certainly there is a somewhat elderly man who I'm assuming is the new professor for Potions class, but much more surprising is the presence of a blonde girl who looks almost young enough to be a student.

"We also have a special guest this year: Miss Fleur Delacour. Some of you may remember Miss Delacour as the Beauxbatons champion from the Triwizard Tournament two years ago. Miss Delacour is here conducting research for her postgraduate scholarly work comparing the various great wizarding educational institutions of Europe. You will no doubt see her around the castle as well as possibly observing your classes this year. She may also wish to speak with some of you. Please feel free to do so or not as you see fit."

Fleur stands up and waves, practically striking a pose as she does so. She's in a blue outfit that clearly is based on her previously worn school uniform, but this version has been altered rather heavily to highlight Fleur's abundant natural gifts. Her blouse is open to show off her cleavage (which Fleur has no shortage of) and the skirt is now extremely short, so there's nothing to obstruct the view of Fleur's long, bare legs. The uniform shoes are changed out for high heels colored to match the fetishized uniform. The effect is many things, blatant, attention grabbing, sexy, but certainly not subtle or under stated.

Honestly, I'm not quite sure what to make of her. As Professor Dumbledore said, she was here two years ago, yes, but I had essentially no contact with her and paid her no mind. Now looking at her I can't help but think had such an outfit been in the store when Pansy and Hermione took me shopping they would have tried to get me to model it. At the risk of sounding vain, I think I could pull it off respectably.

I think it's quite likely that most females in the Great Hall are not fond of Fleur's display at all, but I find myself more sympathetic than most I think. There's an honesty to the narcissism at work, a shameless flaunting of beauty that in a way I probably should find to be borderline offensive, but I can't help but admire.

So this is the sort of girl Pansy and Hermione were suggesting I be, if only in jest or as part of some grand dress up game? I think it was more a lark for them, the sort of thing girls do together, rather than an attempt at grand life advice, but I can't help but wonder, why can't it be both? Surely there are worse examples to emulate than a Triwizard Champion. I have the wardrobe for it, it would be a waste to not wear what I bought, wouldn't it? (Especially after Harry was so upset about it.) If nothing more it could be a fun game, a sort of teenage dress up game.

Finally, Fleur sits down and Professor Dumbledore continues. "As always, the Dark Forest is strictly out of bounds and no students are permitted within it. Also, as I'm sure you all have heard, the various Educational Decrees from last year have all been repealed, including the formation of the Inquisition Squad; it is back to business as usual here at Hogwarts. Of course, that also will include Quidditch. I hope it will be a great year for you all, and now I bid you all a good night."

That's it, the very last time I'll hear one of these start of term speeches. It's sad in a way; school has been all I've known for the past six years, and I have no idea what I'll be doing a year from now. For all the classes and material taught, it seems preparing students for life after school isn't a concern. Regardless of whether I want to play Quidditch, work in magical development or something else, there seems to be no thought at all to preparation of students or any attempts at a transitional period. The school simply has its graduation ceremony, hands us a diploma and off we go. No one has even spoken of how to apply for a job. Rather short sighted and compartmentalized, I think.

Still, that's almost a year off, not something I care to obsess about today. There's months to worry about Quidditch games, offers from professional teams, fall back plans and NEWT exams. In the short term, I'm more interested in seeing if my new look will get me reactions similar to our resident Veela. I'm hoping it will be a very enjoyable and ego validating experience.

 **Hermione**

I didn't know what the official policy on where Pansy would stay was going to be, and I didn't ask. As far as I'm concerned she belongs in Gryffindor Tower. If I need any more evidence, I have Malfoy's threats on the train to cite. No one asks though, not Professor McGonagall, not Professor Dumbledore, no one. In fact, when we get upstairs Pansy's belongings are there waiting for us, transported by whatever means luggage is moved from the train to the dorms. Apparently that means this little housing arrangement is officially sanctioned. Or if not sanctioned at least allowed to continue with a blind eye turned. Either way, I'm satisfied with it.

Not to say I wouldn't prefer to actually share a bed with Pansy. In the times we were able to share a bed at my house, after my parents had left for work for the day, it was wonderful. Obvious carnal benefits aside, I really came to enjoy sleeping next to someone. I have no doubt that an arrangement like that is a bridge too far for Hogwarts, though. Still, even if I can't share a bed with her, I'll settle for keeping Pansy safe in the next bed over.

Not that she's there now; no, after sleeping through practically the entire train ride Pansy is awake and almost certainly down in the common room. It's late and I need the sleep, but there's something even more important I need to do.

It's dark in my dorm room, with all my roommates already asleep, except for Pansy, but I do my best to make sure I'm dressed decently and quietly slip out and head downstairs. I get to the common room, and sure enough, Pansy is there, pacing around the common room all.

"Oh, Hermione, thank God. I was bored out of my mind." Over the summer, I taught Pansy how Muggles don't invoke the name of Merlin when they swear, it's God for them. Saying Merlin in public will get you some strange looks, in fact. Pansy loved the irony of my teaching her to swear properly and since then she's been using God rather than Merlin.

"I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that this seems justice for abusing the Internet so much." I didn't come to scold Pansy, but I can't resist the urge to do it, though it is in jest.

"Yeah, yeah, blame the perverts who made that thing, not me."

"In all seriousness, I'm glad you're here like this. We need to talk."

"Talk eh? That doesn't sound good."

"It isn't relationship trouble or anything like that. It's about that day in the alley."

"Oh that. Thought we covered this already?"

"We started to, but I'm not sure we ever finished."

"I'm not going to cry again," Pansy frowns at me.

"I'm serious here, Pansy. I need to know that you understand that kind of thing is wrong and that it can't ever happen again."

"Which part, my cat getting murdered, coming across a gang who wanted to fucking rape us or what?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"And just what would you have had me do in that situation? Forget about my dead cat and walk away? Maybe bend over and just take it?"

"Please don't be difficult here, Pansy."

"Difficult? How about you just tell me what I should have done there, then."

"It was a terrible situation; I won't deny that. Yes, having your cat killed in front of you is a horrible thing, as were their intentions, I don't dispute that. But there were options that didn't involve killing."

"Oh please, the world is better off without those assholes in it and you know it."

"That isn't our job."

"I've seen movies; I know how it goes. Losing my parents, that's a classic origin story for a vigilante super hero."

"This isn't a joke, Pansy. I need to know that you take this seriously."

"Look, Hermione, you don't see me going off on random killing sprees and shit. It's not like I'm some homicidal maniac or whatever the stupid term for that crap is. I'm fine. It was a shit situation, but it's over."

"This is more than just that. Actually that day was more like a symptom. Your behavior with Harry's uncle was another. The way you threatened that man… it wasn't just with harm, you pointed your wand at his throat from close range, that's a threat to kill. Even you don't normally act like that."

"What, I pointed my wand at some asshole, so what?"

"Pansy, I've been patient, I've given you space, but it just isn't working. I know you're upset, and I know you aren't dealing with it well on your own."

"Just what do you think I'm upset about?"

"Your parents, how they reacted to us, how they disowned you."

"What, I should be happy about that?" Pansy snaps.

"No, of course not; they treated you horribly, but you shouldn't just internalize all your emotions. It's affecting you very badly, and I'm worried it isn't getting any better."

"Yeah, fine, I'm pissed off. I didn't think it's any big secret. So what?"

"So it's affecting you, and not in a good way. What you're doing to deal with it isn't working."

"You're here so I'm sure you have the answer."

"Talk about it; talk to me, Pansy."

"Oh, you want to hear me bitch? Gee, where to start, my parents are assholes. That about cover it? We done with this feelings bullshit?"

"Yes, I do want to hear you bitch, Pansy; that's exactly what I want. And before you raise some issue of not wanting to look weak or some other ego issue, it isn't a factor here. I know you're strong, much more so than I am. I couldn't go through what you've gone through without falling apart. This isn't about any of that. It's about you needing to talk to someone."

"Why do you want to hear me complain so bad?"

"Because you need to talk about it. This is part of what couples do, they're there for each other. I realize we aren't much for normal things as couples go, but this is one place we need to do things the way others do. I know it sounds stupid and pointless to you, but believe me, talking will help. Actually, even if you don't believe me, just do it for me. Please?"

Pansy looks at me for a bit. "Fine, you want it? All right, have it your way. Yeah, my parents are assholes. We never were particularly close, mostly we just kind of ignored each other. Not like I was neglected or whatever shit Potter was, it was just more they had their shit to do and I had mine. There were nannies and governesses that dealt with me mostly.

"And yeah, I was promised to Draco; not exactly a prime catch there. Sure he's from a big time family, and he may not be horrible to look at, but come on, he's so busy dreaming of being some big shot but really he's just a small time loser. Oh yeah, and a pussy. Seriously, I think the idiot weasel has more balls than him. But whatever, not like we did much more than keep up appearances. Well, that and when he was hard up for a fuck. Seriously, that's something I won't miss. The man was shit in bed. So yeah, not like that's a lot I cared about losing."

"What about your home? You lost that as well," I prompt.

"Yeah, that actually did piss me off. It's a nice place. I guess you wouldn't know, never seen a big pure blood manor, but Parkinson Manor was a hell of a place; big mansion, nice grounds, out buildings, all that stuff. And it's where I kept my stuff. Yeah, that part I actually cared about; some of that stuff I've had for years and really wish I could have taken with me. I'm pretty pissed about that part, actually."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a home like that."

"Yeah, it kind of sucked. Still, it could be worse; I thought I'd be living on my own, finding some empty house to live in over the summer or something. So yeah, living at your place was real good. And your parents were actually cool. The fucked up thing is I'm probably as close to them as I was to my real parents. Except yours actually like me and seem to give a shit."

"You were a very charming house guest."

"I can be a nice girl when I try."

"I know. Honestly it was a bit disconcerting to see at first. Also how well you took to Muggle life and technology."

"Well what the fuck else was I going to do? Just sit and be bitter or something like that? It didn't matter if I liked Muggle shit or not, that's what I was stuck with. Besides, what the hell else was I going to do? Wander around your house wondering why the rooms are so dark and wishing I knew what to do about it?"

"That's a healthy attitude." Pansy just shrugs at that. "Talking like this is healthy too. I imagine it feels better to let it out?"

"What, to vent? I guess. I still say you're weird for wanting to hear all this crap though."

"It's how healthy relationships work, Pansy."

"It's healthy to listen to each other bitch, but not try and score a threesome with Cho? That's fucked up, Hermione."

"Life can be strange."

 **Author's Notes:**

Thanks as always to that_fan, who keeps on helping me with these chapters. Also my thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I appreciate it.


	4. A Failure to Communicate

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Cho**

There absolutely is a thrill when you 'dress to impress' as some would call it. It didn't take me long to realize how exhilarating wearing the clothes from that shopping trip could be; by the time I'd walked down to the common room I was getting looks. The long stares, the gawks of only marginally disguised lust from males, bitter jealousy from some females, the narcissist in me loves them. Actually, I think that narcissist is also an exhibitionist, and she's having the time of her life.

I'm a very pretty girl and I've known it for a long time (all pretty girls do, it's something instinctively learned at a very early age, and reinforced both by being told so and seeing reactions from others), but there's a world of difference between pretty and beautiful. It's something I never spent any real effort to consider before. The two are synonyms, you'd think close ones at that, but now I understand the vast chasm between the two.

Pretty girls have people smile at them, look at them and treat them well, but it's well within reason. Beautiful girls draw all the attention in a room when they enter, they have every eye on them, and everyone knows who they are. Today, I'm drawing all the attention of everyone around me. My tight top draws everyone's eyes to my cleavage, the short skirt steals attention for my legs, and the Muggle heels that click loudly on the castle's stone floors as if they're made to announce my presence, the effect is beyond even my most outlandish fantasies.

I'm having the time of my life by the time I reach the Great Hall for breakfast. Everyone from Gryffindor is already here, Harry, Hermione, Pansy (who lives there even if she isn't actually a member of the house), Ron and Ginny. "Wow Cho, you look great," Harry greets me at the Gryffindor table.

"Ah, thank you, Harry," I reply.

"So that's some of the stuff Harry was all upset over?" Ginny asks. "Those expensive shoes do look nice, yeah."

"And now that you're away from your parents you can dress how you want," Hermione points out.

"That's right. Also, I am of age now, if I were to press the issue, I could do as I liked even at home," I answer.

"Now? You just had a birthday?"

"The 8th of August."

"Ah, happy belated birthday. We should celebrate, go out to Hogsmeade or something like that, right Harry?"

"Oh, right, yeah, we should go out for a late birthday party," Harry takes Hermione's painfully obvious hint.

"Whose birthday?" Fleur asks in a thick French accent, sitting down with us. I'm not sure if anyone invited her to sit with us before I arrived or not.

"Sure, go ahead and join us," Ginny mutters. Fleur pretends not to hear.

"Um, Cho's. It was back on the 8th of August apparently," Harry answers Fleur's question.

"Cho?"

"I guess you never met her when you were here two years ago? This is Cho Chang, my girlfriend."

"Ah, you have a girlfriend?" Fleur turns and looks me over. For what should be a casual conversation, this assessment is anything but. I get the instant sense that Fleur is sizing me up somehow. I puff out my chest and wait while Fleur does whatever sort of inspection she's in the middle of. Finally, she's done with her examination, having seen all she wants to see. "I see. How interesting. New student? I think I would remember someone like you."

"I was here; I was Cedric's girlfriend actually. It's just I was more… introverted."

"Hmm, silver dress at the Yule Ball was it? I remember now. It seems you're cured of that troublesome shyness."

"I suppose you could say I'm going through something of a narcissistic and apparently somewhat exhibitionist phase. Trying it on for size, as they say."

"Your last year at school, no? You want to make an impression, be remembered, be the queen of the school so to speak. I understand."

"Um, no, not exactly. I'll admit the attention is quite a flattering novelty, but climbing to the top of some social order isn't a particular goal of mine."

"Please tell me you aren't looking to just blend in, have some boring job in this country's Ministry or some such."

"Hey, what's wrong with working at the Ministry?" Ron demands.

"Oh, nothing. It's a fine job for the little people. But if someone can do more they should. You won't see someone like Harry working in that place, certainly."

"Um, actually I do want to work for the Ministry," Harry corrects.

"Oh, you have ambitions to rule? I had no idea."

"No, I want to be an Auror."

"The local law enforcement?" Fleur looks confused. "Why?"

"To fight dark wizards; to help people."

"As part of the, hmm, what's the word… constabulary, a servant of the government? You're famous, why would you aim for such a commonplace position?"

"Famous for what? Something that happened when I was a baby that I was way too young to ever hope to remember? What's so great about that where I'd want to use it? I want to make my own way, get somewhere because I actually did it. I don't want to just be handed some political job or something, I want to actually earn what I get."

"Yeah, he wants to be his own man," Ron agrees. "What's so weird about that? You're telling me you like having things just handed to you because of how you look rather than earning them? Never wanted to try the alternative?"

"The alternative to being beautiful? No, I don't want to be ugly. And I do earn things. I was a Triwizard champion because I earned it, no one had to cheat for me there."

Hmm, I think that competition may be something of a sore point for Fleur as well. So one more person who found misery there. I'm rather curious at what the source of Fleur's apparent bitterness is, but after her response to Ron she spares him a dirty look and then leaves without another word. As melodramatic exits go it's adequate, but not the best I've ever seen.

"Wow, Ron, that was actually cool," Ginny praises.

"I don't know what her problem was," Ron comments. "It's like being normal is a disease to her."

"I may have just met her, but I can hazard a guess," I say. "If she's spent her entire life trying to excel, be the best in her school, the most beautiful, be all she can be and so on, trying to be normal, in effect to not excel goes against all she's done."

"But that's not what I said," Harry points out. "I just said I don't want to use that stupid Chosen One stuff to get a job or career or whatever."

"I'm not trying to argue any particular point of view; I'm just trying to clarify what I think Fleur said."

"But you see what I'm saying, right? About wanting to get things because of what you do? I mean, you wouldn't want to get an offer from a Quidditch team because of how you look in a Quidditch uniform, you'd want it because of how you play, right?"

"Harry, it's rather obvious her appearance is very important to her, I might even go so far as to say they're an integral part of who she is. Not using her looks or factoring them in would be like asking you to take a test blindfolded I think."

"Oh, I suppose so, Veela are big on looks I guess," Harry admits kind of lamely. "But still, you wouldn't want to make it just because of looks, would you, Cho?"

I take a breath, trying to stall for time. It's obvious the answer Harry wants, of course. I consider giving it to him, not considering the question at all, simply reassuring him that I share his point of view, but dismiss that idea almost as quickly as it occurs to me; it's cowardice that I somehow find horribly unbecoming.

"Of course I would prefer to get a Quidditch contract because of how I play. But if getting an offer because of how I look, because I dress to match the exhibitionist standards I'm meeting today is the difference between a contract and none, then yes, I will happily sign the contract."

"So you'd be fine with getting a spot on the team just because you look nice or can be used by the team for marketing or something like that?"

"No, that isn't what I said. It would not be my first choice, no, but I won't walk away from my dream on a technicality."

"But how is it still your dream if you didn't make it because you earned it?"

"My dream is to play Quidditch," I explain. "If I make it just to be a team's pin up girl that still means I'll be in the league and I'll be playing. When the alternative is some menial job where I count the minutes before I can go home it's no contest at all. Not all dreams turn out as we hope, but a dream with an asterisk attached to it, so to speak, is better than no dream at all."

Harry very obviously doesn't agree, but he thankfully lets the matter drop. Finding agreement on this isn't likely, so better not to try I think. We've argued more than I care to of late, a trend we both need to find a way to change.

It's almost enough to make a girl wish she'd just told her boyfriend what he wanted to hear. It would have been a lie of course, but if a lie was to smooth things over between Harry and I, would it be so morally reprehensible? It wouldn't have been a huge lie and we do need to find a way to get back to a more peaceful pattern between us. I suppose there are the slippery slope arguments, that a small lie can lead to a larger one and so on, but that argument is cited so often and is not always the gospel people make it out to that as it may, I would prefer to find a way to get along with my boyfriend that was less deceitful. I'll need to give it some further thought.

In the meantime, I need to get to class. My first of the year is Defense Against the Dark Arts, now taught by Professor Snape. I got top marks in this class last year, as well as in Professor Snape's Potions class, so I'm not particularly worried about his move from one field to another, though I'm sure I'll hear complaints from Harry and Ron about it later.

Professor Snape makes his now familiar entry into the classroom, firmly closing the door behind him and looking over the class with a scowl."I see a great many of you were admitted to this NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I can only assume this is due to lenient grading practices in your previous year. Let me assure you, that will not be the case here. If any of you are unsure of your abilities or unwilling to put in the work I suggest you drop this class now."

I have to admit; I've always had a soft spot for Professor Snape. His attitude, the way he never smiles, even his choice in clothing, it all fits together so perfectly. You can't help but admire such a perfectly put together and compelling image. Of course his somewhat abrasive nature is endearing because he's so masterful at the subjects he teaches, and because I've never been the target of his less than tender attention.

I'm rather glad Professor Snape is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. My need for it has become far more actual than hypothetical of late, and I much prefer an instructor whose expertise I know and trust as opposed to someone new and of unknown quality. Given the position's seemingly cursed nature there can't be many people left in wizarding Britain who are willing to undertake the job, and likely none of any real skill.

I raise my hand, not waiting for Professor Snape to finish his introductory remarks. I want his expertise on something, and I know it won't be covered in the normal coursework, so I see little point in waiting to ask.

Professor Snape looks at me, not making any great effort to hide his annoyance at being interrupted. "Yes, Miss Chang?"

"Professor, I was wondering about nonverbal magic used for direct manipulation of materials, particularly on a relatively large scale in combat situations."

"Magical effects like you describe are not within the scope of this class."

"Yes, I know Professor, that's why I asked now rather than waiting for when they might be covered in the regular course of the material."

"If you know it is not a part of a NEWT level class why would you waste my time on this then? This class is for actual defense against dark arts, not your theoretical mental wanderings." He makes it sound like I have reputation for mental wandering.

"But professor, I've had a dark wizard attacking me who used magic like that."

I see one of Professor Snape's eyebrows twitch. "And who, pray tell, was this wizard?"

"Voldermort."

"This is a serious class covering knowledge that may save someone's life, not a seminar on being a hero. If you wish to learn how to fight the Dark Lord then I suggest you look elsewhere, Miss Chang."

"But professor…."

"Heroes die young, but before they do they tend to get everyone around them killed; I suggest you keep that in mind. And should any of you have delusions of actually fighting the Dark Lord head on, which I know some in this school are prone to, let me assure you that regardless of your level of skill or family magic or nonverbal elemental magic or any other form of specialized expertise you may have, any of you who tries will die a horrible death. Now as I am done discussing this, let us return to the actual course work."

So obviously that as they say is that; whatever magic Professor Dumbledore and Voldermort used when they fought in the Ministry isn't something I'll be learning. Pity, it was one bit of magic that really impressed.

 **Harry**

I'm starting Quidditch tryouts with Ron after the first day of school. It's earlier than usual, but we're starting from scratch, so I didn't think we could wait. That and I want to try my new broom out. It's a Firebolt, just like my old one, so it should fly the same, but I still want to test it out and be and it's been a long time since I was last able to fly. I've missed it a lot.

There hasn't been much time since I announced tryouts would start today, but still a lot of people showed up at the Quidditch pitch. Since I decided we'd have tryouts I guess that makes me captain of the team, at least until there's an actual team and we can pick for real. So it's up to me to get things started.

"Ok, can everyone quiet down and listen please?" I start. "So like I'm sure you all know, there isn't much of a team left, just me and Ron, so we're looking for new people at every position except Seeker and Keeper. Now I know a lot of you haven't played before, and that's ok, we can teach you."

Yeah, teaching people, sounds all nice and all. And sure, teams do need to teach people, but teaching them from scratch? And an entire team? Most teams have existing players, existing systems that new people can be plugged into and rely on. We have people in the two solitary positions, that's it. It's going to be a rough year for our win-loss record. I have a much more immediate problem, though.

"All right, how about everyone gets warmed up, fly a few laps and we'll get started in a few minutes," I tell everyone.

People get on their brooms and start flying, just like I told them. Good, way to go, Coach Harry. Before Ron can get in the air I walk over to him. "Hey, Ron, hold up."

"What's up?" He looks at me.

"Um, about the whole coaching thing. I uh, I actually don't know what I'm doing here, and I could really use your help."

"What do you mean you don't know what you're doing?"

"I mean I know how to play Seeker, and that's it."

"But we got you Quidditch books for your birthday and Christmas and stuff," Ron points out.

"Yeah, and I appreciate them, but I kind of only paid attention to the Seeker parts."

"Wow. So what, that means I'm coaching the team?"

"Looks that way. I'll do what I can, but I think you're going to have to take the lead."

"Um, sure, I can do that, but you know I'm not exactly the school's best Keeper. If I'm coaching I can't practice; that's kind of a problem."

"Ron, some of these kids are first and second years who've never played at all; everyone needs the help. Heck, I think some of them probably only got on a broom in class earlier today. Like I said back in Diagon Alley, it's going to be a two-year plan to build a winning team."

"With a lot of losses this year," Ron grumbles.

"Yeah, like I said, maybe we can beat Hufflepuff, that's about it."

"Great. So who's our first game against anyway?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Oh, your girlfriend, wonderful."

Yeah, Ron's right, Cho's going to cream us. Not that she'll be mean about it, just she's competitive and is trying for that professional Quidditch contract. Actually, Hermione's said Cho might be a sadist so maybe she will enjoy beating our team. Hmm, this may get ugly.

 **Ginny**

It's getting kind of late, but there's still quite a few people awake and in the common room here. Hermione's one of them, doing homework or something boring like that. Parkinson's around too, but she's in a corner reading some book, waving her wand around now and then, practicing something or other while her cat is taking a nap on her lap. I don't really care what Parkinson's up to though; Hermione's here and Parkinson isn't attached to her hip, which is good. Hermione and I haven't really had a chance to talk since the last school year.

I plop down onto the couch next to Hermione. "Hiya," I greet her.

"Ah, Ginny, hello," Hermione answers. "What can I do for you?"

"Do for me? Nothing, I just wanted to talk. You weren't at the Burrow over the summer."

"No, it was a rather busy summer, it can be difficult to get away at times, you see."

"Huh? Difficult to get away? What are you talking about Hermione?"

"I'm just trying to explain why I wasn't able to make it over the summer."

"Oh come on, it was Parkinson, we all know that."

"All right, it was Pansy," Hermione admits. "Can you blame me? Do you really think she and your mother would get along?"

"I don't think she gets along with anyone's mother, including her own from the sound of that Howler last year."

"Actually, both my parents adore Pansy."

"What? You're making that up."

"I am not. She's well spoken, respectful and perfectly mannered around my parents. They think she's a wonderful girl and that she's an excellent match for me."

"Serious? Parkinson, right? You didn't get some new girl over the summer or something?"

"Yes, Pansy. She's a pure blood from a noble family, so she was raised to have perfect manners and know how to be a lady. She simply chooses not to use any of that generally. But around my parents, it was a different story."

"Wow, so they're fine with her living at your place for good I guess?"

"Possibly, though it's not my first choice."

"Why? What's your first choice?"

"For Pansy to be given Parkinson Manor."

"Uh, how would that work? She was disowned. I mean, yeah, one of her parents is locked up and the other probably will be too if they catch them, but even if both get put into Azkaban, I'm not sure what it'll change."

"It could be argued that taking Pansy's inheritance was done to further a terrorist organization, and as such her property and inheritance rights should be restored. And given that one parent is locked up, as you say, and the other is fleeing charges, Pansy would have power of attorney. In effect she would inherit immediately."

"Uh…." I really don't think anyone will buy that. I'm pretty sure it isn't how the law works at all, and even if it is, are other pure blood families really going to just let all that stuff be stolen and given to a blood traitor? "I'm not sure that's going to work, Hermione."

"Yes, I understand it is a long shot. Still, I think it might be possible."

"So what, you're writing to a lawyer or something?"

"No, the Minister. Or rather the interim Minister of Magic."

"Oh yeah. I forgot he actually listens to us and stuff. It's pretty weird, you know. I mean, we're just a few school kids and the Minister of Magic actually answers our letters and talks to us and all."

"Saving the Ministry will do that."

"Yeah, Order of Merlin and all. Messed up stuff. Nobody in my family has ever gotten something like that, then all of a sudden Ron and I are famous and a big deal and stuff. People who wouldn't give my dad the time of day wanted to meet me and talk to me and hear my opinion and all."

"Exactly. So while it might normally be difficult to have Pansy's name restored and the family property transferred to her, I think in this case there is a chance."

"Ah, abusing your fame and stuff? Nice. Though I'm pretty sure some people wouldn't agree. I know Harry's pretty big on not using his fame."

"Yes, I know that, Harry wants to earn what gets, be a self made man and all that. And I understand his reasons, which are certainly valid for him, but this case is different. I want results, and I don't see any other means to achieve them, so I'm willing to do what it takes to get what matters to me."

"Um, ok, you're smarter than me and all. Just don't go doing anything crazy, ok? I mean, politicians like us and all,but we're still kids, so take it easy with trying to bully the Minister, ok?"

"Of course, of course."

Yeah, right. I don't want to call Hermione a liar, but her being reasonable when it comes to Parkinson just doesn't happen.I don't know what has Hermione so loyal and stuff. Love I guess, though Merlin knows what exactly it is about Parkinson she loves so much. Anyway, I'm worried Hermione might push this too far or say something she shouldn't. I mean, whatever medals they gave us, we're kids and these are the people who run the country. They just plain don't need us that bad, do they? How could they?

 **Fleur**

A year at this castle. Again. Not my first choice at all. Why is it I can't ever seem to find my way to somewhere with proper food? Honestly, what is it with British people? Just because you can put something into your mouth does not make it pie? Kidney pie? Who thought these were recipes worth keeping?

But then with the idiot government this country has what can one expect? They managed to make a mess of the Triwizard Tournament. Triwizard. Tri, as in three. It's right there in the name. Can't they count? Three is not four. But some idiot government official didn't care, a terrorist cheats and Harry is suddenly a champion. They just say it's the rules, he's in and that's that. No investigation of how it happened, who did it or what.

Not that I blame Harry, not at all. He's a good boy, loyal, noble, a bit naive perhaps, but a good young man. Dragged into things he shouldn't be a part of, probably in over his head in a lot of it, but he held on through it. He even helped my sister in the second task. It turned out to not be needed, but he did it anyway. It's a big part of why I'm here, really. He's in over his head with the idiot dark wizard with the odd name, and he deserves my help.

Still, that third task was nonsense. Taken out by a terrorist, and no one had a problem with that? No one saw the obvious outside interference as cheating? How was that allowed to stand? Still, it's not as embarrassing as that brute Krum who was magically enslaved to be some growling, drooling attack dog. How anyone could tell the difference I don't know. But then you didn't see some terrorist trying that on me. No, they knew I was too strong for something like that. They had to completely incapacitate me for their idiot plan.

At least the British can't make too bad a mess of breakfast. Honestly, bacon is just not something you can get wrong. I'm sitting down to breakfast now, with Harry and his friends. That red head girl, Ginny seems annoyed to see me, but that's her problem.

"Morning," Harry greets.

"Good morning." I smile.

"So I take it this is a regular thing now? Your eating with us I mean?" Cho asks.

"It seems so."

"Ah. Well that's good then."

"Not that it isn't good to have company here, but I'm curious why you've chosen to be here?" Hermione asks.

"Because people here are closer to my age than the staff table, no? More relatable conversation," I reply.

"That's why?"

"That and to keep an eye on you."

"Excuse me?" Apparently she didn't expect that answer, silly girl. "Keep an eye on us?"

"Of course. For much of last year, especially at the end Dumbledore had no idea what was going on,so he reached out to me to help keep an eye on you all."

"So you're a spy." The dark haired girl with Hermione frowns. Pansy or some such.

"Not at all. It sounds like so much work and terribly dull, all that sneaking around and lying. I'm perfectly open about what I'm doing, you see, so it isn't spying at all. Spying just isn't 's almost as bad as the first idea they had for me, working at that bank, full of those goblins counting money and reading financial statements all day long. Dreadfully boring work. I wanted no part of that."

Honestly, thinking I would spend all day long in some dark, tiny office looking at numbers, counting which family had what or was doing some illegal thing or another with their money. I'm willing to help, but that's far past my tolerance for boring work.

The morning mail comes. There's nothing for me of course, it's mainly newspapers. Anything I'd care to read about wouldn't be in a British newspaper. Still, some of the girls here get papers and seem to think they're interesting reading.

"Oh my god, are you seeing this?" Hermione asks.

"What?" asks Harry, who doesn't have a paper.

Hermione starts reading from the paper. "As has become all too common, Death Eaters struck yesterday. However, unlike previous attacks, this one saw a second group fighting the Death Eaters. A group of wizards who were heard to refer to themselves as The Order of the Phoenix fought the Death Eaters to a standstill. Ministry Aurors responded within minutes of the appearance of the Death Eaters and both they and this Order of the Phoenix managed to escape. Who this new group is remains unknown, but theories range from a vigilante group to an offshoot of the Death Eaters themselves, possibly in a power struggle."

"So they're actually fighting?" Ron asks. "About bloody time."

"I don't know, Ronald, I didn't think the Order was about this sort of response."

I have to say, I didn't think so either. Honestly, I'm rather upset. I'm helping Dumbledore out by babysitting in this castle, but that's because it was better than the alternative. No one mentioned actually being allowed to go out and fight terrorists. I'm stuck killing time in this castle, going to random classes to listen to lectures on things I already know. I'm going to have to have some words with someone about this.

"It sounds like they are now."

"So maybe that means Voldermort will be so busy fighting the Order we'll have a normal year," Harry suggests.

"Yeah, that's not so likely mate; we haven't had a normal year yet."

"So if people are fighting maybe we need to start the DA up again?" that red head Ginny asks.

"What, why?" Apparently Harry doesn't like that DA thing.

"Uh, because in a fight we aren't going to cut it? Just running away isn't exactly much of a plan, you know. So unless Luna has more weird critters hiding somewhere we need to know how to take care of ourselves."

Harry thinks about it for a bit. "Yeah, I guess it makes sense. It doesn't really matter if it should be us to fight Death Eaters, it always seems to wind up as us in the end."

 **Author's Notes:**

Thanks to that_fan like always.

Honestly, the reception to this story hasn't been exactly what I've hoped, which is a bit discouraging at times, and for some reason I've got a sneaking suspicions that trend won't necessarily change with this chapter. Maybe I'm wrong, I hope I am. The arcs (both plot and character) as well as the story's structure are different in this fic than the one before it. Maybe it will work in the end, maybe not we'll see.


	5. Coming Battles

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Cho**

Things between Harry and I haven't been great by any measure lately. We don't talk, and when we do it seems to either be banalities with no depth or, worse we bicker, I've even wondered a few times if sugar coating the truth would be easier with Harry. It's no way for a relationship to operate, and I've realized if I want it to improve it's up to me. Despite his age, this is Harry's first relationship (a fact I find far too easy to forget) so as the one who has actually dated before, it has to be me who ameliorates this situation.

That's why I'm waiting outside the Great Hall before dinner. I made sure to come down early, lest Harry and his friends get here and inside before I had a chance to take Harry aside for a private chat. My early arrival makes for a long wait, pacing around with little else to do but watch as various people come down to eat. People certainly see me and pay attention, but on the whole I feel like little more than a decoration that other students find quite appealing to stare at. A tedious, tiresome test of my patience.

Finally, after far longer than I would have liked, Harry comes down along with Ron, Hermione and Pansy.

"Harry," I call out to him.

"Oh, Cho, hi. What are you doing out here? There some reason you didn't go inside and eat?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Um, we always talk over dinner, don't we?"

"I'd like to talk to you in private if we could. It's still light out. Maybe we could go for a walk outside?"

"All right, sure," Harry replies, sounding rather obviously nervous. "Um, I guess we'll join you guys inside later." Harry waves to his friends.

For all I've learned, experienced and read, and all I imagine I ever will, I don't believe I will ever come to understand the reluctance of males to talk privately to their girlfriends, especially when the subject is their relationships. I'm trying to help Harry here, help both of us in fact, but he looks like he's going to face an inquisition. It simply makes no sense.

But reluctant or not, Harry escorts me outside, as requested. It actually is a pleasant evening outside too, warm, a soft breeze, light that's not quite daylight, not quite sunset, most everything you could ask for as ambiance for a stroll with your boyfriend.

"So um, what'd you want to talk about, Cho?" Harry asks once we've gotten a few steps outside.

"I… well, I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize? What for?"

"For how I've acted lately. I realize I haven't been a terribly good girlfriend, or a terribly good friend at all."

"Um, it's ok, I guess? I mean, not a huge deal, right?" I'm not sure if Harry is forgiving or doesn't realize how much thought I've put into this. Either way, I still have to explain.

"No, Harry, it actually is a big deal. Couples should communicate, and we haven't been, and a great deal of it is my fault. I know at Diagon Alley you were upset with me, for instance. When you said how much the bill for that shopping trip was my reaction was obviously not one you felt appropriate. When I heard the amount the first thing that came to my mind was to review that day, try and recall the various costs of things and sum them up to see if I could confirm that total. It seemed so disgracefully high, I had to confirm it for myself.

"I should have been more understanding of your situation rather than resorting to my own mental confirmation. It's a habit of mine, and probably not a praise worthy one. I should have been more aware of what was going on during the shopping trip as well. I do regret that, Harry."

"It's ok, Cho. Thanks for saying all that, though."

"No, I want to make amends. I'm sure you've heard me talk ad infinitum about my plans for a Quidditch contract, one thing many come with is a signing bonus. So if all goes to plan then somewhere around Christmas time I could be signed and thus able to repay you for the shopping trip. Rather than try and recall who bought what. I'll simply pay the full amount. I think that's easier and spares Pansy's pride, considering she bought quite a few things as well."

"You don't have to do that, Cho. It wasn't really about the money. My uncle's going to make me work even if I pay him back in full. So thanks, really, but it's ok, I don't need the money."

"No, Harry, you don't understand. It isn't just about you and what your uncle says you owe, it's about me as well. Of late I know I've been rather…."

"Self absorbed?" I inwardly wince at Harry's very accurate word choice.

"Yes, I suppose self absorbed fits. I absolutely do have a narcissistic side, and I've indulged it greatly. It's rather complex, in a way, you see. It's, well, hmm. I've said couples should communicate, I suppose I should take my own advice then.

"All right, I've told you my parents are not likely to approve of my playing Quidditch professionally. But I am of age, and they are not here, so if I am indeed offered a chance to play, they cannot stop me. That decision will have consequences, however. I do not claim to know what they will be, but I expect they will be unpleasant, so much so that, whether by my own choice or not, I think there is a high chance I will have to make my own arrangements for a place to stay this summer."

"They're going to throw you out?"

"I suppose it's a bit melodramatic to say they will. Still, I think it may be a great deal more agreeable to choose to move out rather than live with what is likely to be the beginning of many long standing arguments and various other unpleasantries.

"As I'm sure I've mentioned, I've been heavily influenced by my parents for all my life, so much so that I've been left to wonder who exactly I would be on my own. So since sometime last year I've been trying to find out. The narcissism I think was first awakened when I won the Quidditch Cup last year. The thrill, the sheer exhilaration of holding it aloft while everyone cheered and shouted my name, it was overwhelming. Though you've been in that position, I don't need to tell you how addictive it feels."

"Yeah, I've been there, I don't think I quite got into it as much as you did though."

"Ah? Perhaps not. Still, it made a great impression on me. Then over the summer when Pansy wanted to cast me as some sort of model or beauty queen or whatever she'd term it as, I thought I'd play along. After all, if you want to find yourself and someone is casting you in a role, why not try it and see how it fits? So besides the obvious answer of the clothes fitting quite tightly, it did fit that narcissistic side of my personality well.

"It may be very vain of me to say, but a large part of me truly does enjoy the attention, the stares and all the rest that this wardrobe brings. It's a part I can play very easily, and even lose myself in to a degree."

"Does that mean this is the new you?" Harry asks.

"I'm not sure that's entirely true. I do enjoy the attention dressing like this brings, so I think that I will keep on doing so. And the attention and even adoration I felt from the stands when I won the Quidditch Cup is something I want to repeat, at a larger scale if I can. But being so self absorbed, as you put it, is not something I care to maintain. So I do apologize for that."

"So are there any other personalities you plan to try out that I should know about in advance?"

I stop and think about it a while, going over my memories of the past year or so, trying to see if any memories stand out as more intense or exhilarating than others. One fits the bill.

"I hadn't thought about it before, but now that you mention it, there is one thing that stand out from last year," I reply. "You remember the Death Eaters we fought at the Ministry, of course, Pansy's parents I believe they were?"

"Sort of hard to forget that day."

"Yes, it was an eventful day. I'm referring to that specific encounter with those two Death Eaters. There was a certain exhilaration to that. I'd felt it to a degree with the Inquisitors I'd acted against earlier in the year, but this was far more intense. There's a thrill to combat I can't deny."

"That was terrifying, Cho; we barely got out alive."

"Yes, but we did get out alive, and therein lies the thrill. Actually, one of the Death Eaters was even captured. Now obviously. I know I'm still a student and can't expect to stand against most Death Eaters, but it is an intriguing direction to go in."

"You want to dress like some kind of model and get in fights?"

"I'm not sure I'd use those exact words, but you have to admit, it is an interesting mix of ego trip and adrenaline."

"I don't know, that sounds pretty strange to me, Cho."

"Maybe it is, but I won't know what it's like until I try. I don't know how else to do this except try different things and see how they feel. It's like trying on clothes, you put them on and see what happens."

"Well ok, I guess you can try stuff like that at the DA. Just be careful you don't hurt someone, or yourself."

"I'll be careful, Harry, I promise. And please, if I cross some line let me know. I know I can get lost in my head at times, it's simply who I am; it's not because I don't care about you or have concern for your feelings. I know I haven't made that as clear of late as I should have, and again, I'm sorry. This, all this, the trying on of personalities is something I should have done years ago; a normal person would have. But this is where my life is, all I can do is ask for your patience and indulgence with my efforts."

"No, look, Cho, I get it. I know I'm not exactly normal either. Heck, last year one of my best friends decides she's into evil girls; it's fine, I dealt with that, I can deal with your um, stuff too."

"Thank you. And I'll try and be better about talking to you about it. Sometimes it's hard, not knowing in your own head how to put things, to say nothing of telling someone else. I'll try harder in the future."

I suppose I should be thankful that I have a patient boyfriend. That, or a since I'm his first girlfriend, he doesn't know any better. Either way, our little talk is done, so it's back inside to eat, which is your typical meal with friends. The entire rest of the day is rather typical in fact, until the evening.

I'm in the library, the Restricted Section to be specific, looking through the stacks. I've at least glanced at everything here at one time or another, but I'm looking for books to read in real detail today. Talking with Harry I told him I found a certain exhilaration, almost enjoyment in combat. It's true, the thrill is undeniable. That being said, while we learn some spells that are applicable to combat at Hogwarts, and the DA focuses on that as well, there is always more a girl can learn.

Unfortunately, while Hogwarts' library is extensive, it's much more akin to a research library than a repository of training materials for warfare. Certainly many spells can be used in a battle, some directly, some with creative adaptations, but I was hoping to find a book directly on point.

I've given up and am about to leave when I hear Professor Dumbledore behind me. "Looking for some light reading?"

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, good evening," I turn and greet him. "I just was looking around, that's all."

"Oh, it's quite all right, Miss Chang. I'm well aware that you have permission to be here and read any of the books in the Restricted Section. So, were you looking for anything in particular?"

"No, more just looking, seeing what books were available on what topic."

"Ah. Form the look of it you found nothing to your liking."

"Well no, nothing caught my fancy," I admit.

"Perhaps I might suggest something then."

Professor Dumbledore pulls out a book from a pocket in his robes and offers it to me. It's old; more than old, ancient, a hundred years old if it's a day. The book is well worn, obviously having been read and reread many times. The cover is plain, with only the title on it.

"Elemental Effects Via Direct Magical Control," I read. "What is this?"

"It's a book, as I'm sure is obvious. I was given it when I was young. It isn't the sort of thing a school would keep in its library, but I think you might find it to be what you were looking for."

"How do you know what I was looking for?"

"Oh, call it an educated guess," Professor Dumbledore smiles at me. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be careful, do I, Miss Chang? Oh, and have a good night."

Be careful. That sounds like it should go without saying. After all, what kind of book is so restricted even the Restricted Section of the library won't have it?

 **Hermione**

I'm late for prefect rounds. I was reading and lost track of time, now I have to run all the way up to the tower to drop off my books before starting my rounds. I'm focused on running (not something I do often) and trying to get to the tower to meet up with Pansy before we're absurdly late starting our patrol, and I don't see something on my left. I don't register it as more than a large, dark indistinct shape that knocks me through an open doorway into a small store room. Right away I hear the door slam behind me. I want to turn around to see who did it, but I don't get the chance. Instead I feel a small hard object pressing against the back of my neck. From the size and shape I'm guessing the tip of a wand.

"You gryffindykes aren't nearly as smart as you think you are," I hear Malfoy's voice behind me. I've heard him mocking people before, but this is less arrogant and colder sounding. "I told you I was going to kill you and still you go around without a care in the world."

So this is it; Malfoy's revenge for killing his mother. Not that she's even dead, but that's hardly the point. Malfoy thinks she is. He threatened violence, death actually, but I didn't really think he'd do it. I know Harry said to take it seriously, but somehow it didn't register. I was just so used to Malfoy's empty threats I didn't give it a second though.

"So, what about it? Ready to die, or would you like to beg? I might let you go, kiss your whore one last time and kill you both tomorrow," Malfoy taunts.

"I won't give you the pleasure, Malfoy. So if you're going to do it you might as well just get it over with." I try to sound brave, have some dignity in my last moment, but really I'm terrified; I don't want to die.

"Ah, you don't want to play? Maybe if the other cunt was here. A little back for forth Cruciatus cursing, see which of you gryffindykes breaks first. My money's on the blood traitor cunt. She talks tough but I don't buy it. She didn't have the balls to follow the right side, she won't stand up to some torture."

Like a cliché villain, Malfoy's actually off on a monologue? I can't believe it.

"I think it'll be fun to find out. So run along, go tell your whore what happened here. And sometime soon you'll both be dead."

I feel the wand pressed against the back of my neck removed and the door opens. I wait a moment, giving Malfoy time to leave and trying to compose myself. I could have died; should have died. The only reason I didn't was because it wouldn't have been dramatic enough to satisfy Malfoy's ego.

Finally, after enough time has passed I leave the room and head back up to Gryffindor Tower. Pansy is just outside the portrait entrance, waiting for me and making a show of looking bored.

"God, about time, Hermione," She greets me. "Where the hell were you? Wait, what's wrong?" Pansy looks at my face, looking genuinely worried.

"I ran into Malfoy." I tell Pansy everything that happened.

Pansy listens to the story, looking more and more outraged as I go. Her reaction when I'm done is not subtle. "That fucking faggot!" Most of the castle has to have heard that. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

"Pansy, please, try and calm down," I know Pansy isn't exaggerating, she means to actually kill.

"No, I'm going to cut his balls off, shove them down his throat and watch while he chokes to death."

"Pansy, please, killing isn't the answer here."

"Why the hell not? When someone wants to kill you, you kill them first. It's simple."

"No, when someone threatens you, you go to the authorities. We should tell Professor Dumbledore."

"Yeah, and what's that going to do? He'll ask Malfoy about it, Malfoy will lie, then what? You think the old man's going to hire some body guards for us? Have teachers follow us around the castle?"

"There must be something," I insist. Of course there isn't, though. Not that I'm going to take preemptive action against Malfoy, though; there must be other answers. "If not Professor Dumbledore we have to be able to do something else. Because I absolutely will not let you simply kill Malfoy. You're better than that."

"Better than that? I think we define better differently, Hermione. But fine, if you aren't willing to strike first there's not much else we can do besides be careful. Try not to be alone in the castle, and if we are have our wands out, and if anything feels off get out of there or start flinging spells and worry about the details later."

"So be careful? That's it?"

"Unless you're willing to show off creative ways to dispose of a body, then yeah, that's it," Pansy replies.

"So what now?"

"We do our prefect rounds, watch our backs and find something to change the subject to. Anything particular in mind?"

I think about it a bit. Besides the likely inevitability of Malfoy's new word 'gryffindykes' spreading around the entire castle by tomorrow, there must be something. It takes me a little while, but finally I do come up with something.

"Pansy, I was wondering if you could try being nicer to Ginny. Maybe even becoming friends."

"What, the girl weasel?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because for quite a while she was really my only female friend. I have you now, obviously, and Cho is a friend as well, but still, I'm close to Ginny and it's quite awkward with you and her not getting along. So I'd really appreciate if you made an effort."

"Effort to do what exactly?"

"Just talk to her. Be nice to her." Pansy gives me a skeptical, almost annoyed look I can't help but giggle at. "All right, nice for you."

"You really expect that to work?"

"I'll talk to Ginny too, make sure she isn't thinking it's some mind game or something. But please, can you at least try this? For me?"

"This is really that important to you?"

"She's my friend. You know I don't have many, and our friendship has been very strained lately. Please, it would mean a lot if you did this; it would make my life much easier."

"Fine, fine," Pansy sighs. "I'm not dealing with her idiot brother though; I don't care whose friend he is. The girl weasel is it for that family."

"Thank you, Pansy." I smile at my girlfriend. She's trying hard to look annoyed at my request, but I know Pansy can't stay annoyed when I smile at her.

 **Harry**

Tonight is the first DA meeting. It isn't illegal anymore, so we have a big group coming. Actually, Hermione is even bringing Parkinson, which I'm still not 100% ok with. It's probably small minded and petty of me, but you see a girl on the other side for enough years, and it gets weird when she's on yours, even if she is on the arm of one of your best friends.

We're meeting in the room of requirement, the same as always; it's versatile, and its tradition. Everyone's here basically on time, and we're set to get started. I'm about to do an introductory speech (I have no idea what I'll say, just make something up about welcoming people or something) but someone else starts first.

"What's he doing here?" Zacharias Smith asks, pointing at Ron. Smith's from Hufflepuff, I'm not sure what year. Mine or one ahead I think. I never liked him enough to find out for sure. He was the biggest trouble maker at the DA's setup meeting Hermione organized last year, pestering endlessly wanting to hear about my fighting Voldermort, trying to see if I was a liar.

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" Ron crosses his arms, glaring at Smith.

"The way I heard it, you sold the DA out at the end of last year. So why are you allowed back?"

"He was at the Ministry," I cut in. "He helped us fight the Death Eaters and Voldermort."

"Oh, so he gets a pass? We letting in that other chick that sold us out too then, Chang's friend?"

"She's not my friend anymore," Cho answers coldly.

"So only one traitor then?"

"Shut the hell up," Ron yells. I rush to get between him and Smith before a fight breaks out.

"Hey, everyone, calm down. People make mistakes, yeah. But the DA is legal now, so we don't have to worry about that anymore, right? Now Ron and I talked about it, and as far as I'm concerned he can stay. If anyone else has a problem with him they should talk to him, but somewhere else. We're here to learn and practice, ok?"

Ron and Smith just glare at each other for a minute before turning their backs and going to different corners of the room. So much for a pleasant greeting to start things. I've got to try anyway.

"So um, anyway, welcome back to the DA everyone," I try. It's pretty lame. "Like I said, the club's legal again, so no need for secrecy or to worry about people finding out. Also, it's ok to tell friends about it and even bring them and stuff like that. So hmm, maybe we should start with some review, make sure everyone's on the same page for what we know?"

"If you really want to get people's attention try some combat training," Ginny mutters, glancing at her brother and Smith.

"I'm game," Ron says.

"Me too," Smith agrees.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I make sure to stay in between them. "I think the two of you should just keep your distance from each other today."

"Why? He's a jerk and he should get what's coming to him," Ron states.

"Says the guy who's less trustworthy than a Merlin damned Slytherin." Smith isn't backing down any more than Ron is.

"Look, if you or anyone else has a problem with Ron then deal with it on your own time. If you can't then just leave, ok? We're trying to actually get something done here, and that doesn't include fighting each other." I look back and forth between Ron and Smith, giving them both my best stern looks. I don't really expect either to leave, and I really don't want Ron to, but I've got to lay down the law.

Ron's my best friend and all, but I've got to look impartial here. And after last year, I knew this sort of thing would happen. I'm sort of surprised didn't, actually. I talked to him about it over the summer, so it's not like Smith is the first. I really wish Ron had planned ahead so this wouldn't just happen. You know, have something ready to say, apology, explanation, anything. But apparently not.

Neither leaves though, and it looks like at least for now, neither is going to fight. Not that I think all this is permanently solved, but that's Ron's problem, and for another time.

"All right, so um, let's just sort of see what everyone still remembers? You know, try a few spells out, see if people forgot things over the summer, I can help out anyone that needs it and once I see what people know and don't I'll try and fill in some of the gaps, ok?" There's my best Teacher Harry attempt.

People actually listen, everyone breaking off and trying some spells. Some people just are casting random things, others firing off spells at targets, a few working in pairs, but most people are alone.

Parkinson and Hermione are paired off, of course. I walk over to see what they're doing. Partly I'm curious, and partly I want to make sure Parkinson isn't using her first time at the DA to teach some sort of spell that's not at all appropriate.

"What are you two up to?" I ask.

"Just debating what we should practice," Hermione replies.

"And I was telling her what you taught last year was boring crap not worth bothering with." So it looks like Parkinson doesn't think much of my teaching.

"Wait, how do you know what the DA covered? There's no way Hermione could have gone over it all with you this fast," I point out.

"Oh please, I knew all last year what you were covering. Your precious club wasn't nearly as secret as you all thought. That idiot Umbridge needed proof, but everyone knew; who was in your club, and I knew what was being covered."

"I wonder how you could have known that." I turn my gaze to Hermione.

"It's a long story, and I trusted Pansy to not use that information against us."

"So you just told her everything?"

"Harry, it's not like that. I didn't violate your or anyone else's trust. And for that matter if I had, that contract we all signed would have affected me as well."

Ok, she has a point about the contract. "So um, if you think all the stuff we taught is so useless what do you want to practice, Parkinson? Dark magic and the Unforgivables?"

"Oh please, you sound like a child. Ooh, dark magic, scary," Parkinson mocks. "The world isn't black and white and neither is magic. The same with the so called Unforgivables. You think it's more forgivable to use loser spells and die rather than put your enemy down?"

"I think it's better to win and be able to live with yourself than to simply use whatever brutality is easier."

"Oh what a load of crap. You and your Gryffindor shit, I swear. All that morality doesn't mean a god damned thing if you're dead. It's real simple, see; you do what you have to to stay alive. All the rest is just preachy crap. But hey, go be a martyr, I don't care. But I won't let Hermione do that. It's a luxury we don't have any more. So yeah, teach the kids stunners and let them think it'll let them fight off a Death Eater attack. I'll make sure Hermione and I are ready to put anyone that comes at us down."

I get the sense that Parkinson has something other than a hypothetical threat on her mind here. I'd like to ask, but somehow I don't think it's a good idea. Parkinson and I aren't exactly what you'd call close. Actually the real reason I'd care (besides curiosity and general basic concern for another person) is because a threat to Parkinson is almost certain to be a threat to Hermione. If I want to know I'll have to ask Hermione later. Maybe Parkinson will want to play with her cat or something and I'll have a chance.

I decide to politely walk away. It's not that I don't have more to say, but something tells me this is probably not the first time Parkinson has said this sort of thing, though the normal target is obviously Hermione. Not that she said anything either way, so I have no real idea where she stands. I doubt she's as open to anything magic wise as Parkinson, but I also think that Hermione isn't exactly where I am on the issue either. For better or worse, Hermione's changed some. Maybe it's because of Parkinson, maybe she changed and is with Parkinson because of the change. Either way, I can't say whether she'd use an Unforgivable or dark magic if pushed or not anymore.

So with that behind me I decide to go check on Cho. She's practicing alone, firing off spells at a target. She's actually casting really fast, as fast as I've seen anyone cast actually. It's all simple stuff, but the speed and variety's impressive, it'd be hard to defend against. It looks like she's tossing in a few non verbal spells too.

After a little bit she stops and starts practicing what looks like martial arts. I know Cho got a few books about that stuff (I wound up carrying them on that shopping trip) but I didn't know she was practicing. Ok, well, looking at her maybe just starting to practice; Cho's um, she's not that good at it. I've seen a few kung-fu movies and stuff, and that all looks cool, Cho's pretty obviously still learning because it's kind of ugly. Yeah… think I'll go find someone else to look in on; I don't think Cho wants a lot of commentary at the moment.

Ginny's my next target, and she sees me coming. "Your girl's practicing to beat people up?" she asks me.

"Um, I guess." I laugh a bit nervously, not knowing where Ginny's going with this.

"So that's what you go for? So if I'd beat you up a few years back we'd be together instead?"

Um, yeah. Maybe it's not too late to let Ron take on Smith?

 **Author's Notes:**

Sorry this is late. The last scene is what's to blame. I had the first version, the changed it to an all new one that fell kind of flat. So I had to redo it again and wound up with something very similar to the original plan. A lot of time got spent in the process, as you might imagine.

Thanks to that-fan for his help, and thanks to everyone who reviews. I appreciate it.


	6. Merlin's Gift of School Queens

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Hermione**

I've finally gotten a reply back from the Minister of Magic. Actually, I got it this morning, but this isn't the sort of thing I wanted to read with an audience; too many questions from Harry and Ron. This isn't about them, and at this point I prefer to keep it that way.

I've waited until night time, when most everyone should be studying or doing school work. Of course most people in the tower are wasting time, but at the very least they're otherwise occupied, and since few like talking to me, this is a fine time to see what the Minister had to say.

I open the envelope and am just taking the letter out when Ginny plops down next to me.

"Hiya," she greets. "What you reading?"

"Um, nothing. It's just a personal thing."

"Hmm. Don't think I'm buying that one, Hermione."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I saw you get it at breakfast and then put it away real fast."

"What, you've been watching me all day, waiting for me to open it?" I give Ginny a suspicious look.

"Pretty much. So what is it?"

"It's from the Minister of Magic, if you must know." Ginny knew I mailed the Minister already, and even if she didn't, she's not the sort to let things go, especially if she's been watching and waiting all day.

"Oh, that Parkinson Manor stuff?"

"Yes. And I'd prefer if you keep your voice down. I don't care to let others know."

"What? Why not?"

"For Pansy because I want it to be a surprise if it works, and if it doesn't, I don't want to have gotten her hopes up. For everyone else, it's none of their business," I answer. Pansy is thankfully at a table, reading some book, waving her wand practicing a spell.

"So what'd he say?"

I open the letter and start looking at it. "Dear Miss Granger… always a pleasure to hear from one of our most distinguished citizens… I appreciate your interest in this topic… while you do make a compelling argument I'm afraid it is not in keeping with our current laws. Blah, blah, blah, we're a nation of laws… thank you for writing… please don't hesitate to do so again in the future… sincerely, the stand-in windbag."

"You really expected something else? I told you he wasn't going to buy it."

"I know, and I assumed you were right, but a part of me expected better."

"Better?" Ginny asks.

"That he'd see that denying Pansy the manor is wrong, that he'd have some plan or path forward ready. Instead I get the magical equivalent of a form letter."

"What's a form letter?"

"Oh, sorry, I guess wizards don't have that? It's a generic letter prewritten that's used in response to mail that does not warrant a personal response. It's meant to make the letter writer feel like they're important, but in reality is impersonal and almost insulting."

"Well if it makes you feel better usually you'd get no response at all. The fact you did means you're important."

"Yes, I know, we're important, at least for the moment."

"Well, sorry it didn't work out. I guess you had to try though, right?"

"Oh no, I'm not done," I assure Ginny.

"Hmm? What's left? You tried and he said no."

"I tried asking nicely. Next I won't be nice about it. He's the interim minister only, remember. He wants to be permanent, but he has to win an election first, and in an election the opinions and endorsements of heroes carry weight."

"Um, you want to start playing politics? Aren't you a bit young for that?"

"I don't want to, but as it's the only way to get what I want, I will do so. And I'm old enough to recognize that I have leverage, so I'll use it."

"You really need to be careful here, I think," Ginny cautions. "People do this for a living. Now I know you're really smart, maybe smarter than that Minister, sure. But he's got experience on you, Hermione."

"I know, and I'll be careful. For now, all I'm going to do is remind him that in an election, especially in a time when the population is nervous, that the endorsement from a hero can swing votes, either for or against him. I won't threaten, I'll simply say that this is the right thing to do, and if the laws say otherwise then he should do what it takes to change them, and depending on what he does or doesn't do, I'll do what is right as well."

"Isn't that sort of corruption or something?"

"From what I understand it's how politics works. It may not be pure, but if it gets things done I'm willing to live with the somewhat gray morality of it."

"Um, if you say so." Ginny might not agree, but if she was in love I think her point of view might change. Regardless, pushing the point won't help.

"Actually, there is something else I'd like to talk to you about."

"What's that?"

"I was hoping you might talk with Pansy."

"Uh, talk to her about what?" Ginny gives me an unsure look.

"Anything. It's just that you're one of my best female friends; I've been able to talk to you about things I couldn't talk to Harry or Ron about, and it's awkward now that you and Pansy dislike each other. I've noticed you only talk to me when Pansy isn't around. It's not a good situation for me, Ginny. I've talked to Pansy, she said she'll be um, civilized, no mind games or anything like that. So please, just talk to her. About anything at all. Just talk."

"Just talk to her? Hermione, she's not nice. Evil. Hateful, even."

"So talk to her about evil things, what you hate, what annoys you, whatever pops into your head. I know it's awkward, but please, just try? For me?"

"Fine," Ginny groans.

Hardly the most enthusiastic response, but I suppose if it's like the Minister, all will be well that ends well.

 **Pansy**

I've just about got this spell down when someone sits down next to me. I look up, about to tell them to fuck off when I see it's the girl weasel. Not that I like her, but Hermione made me agree to talk to her, so I swallow the insult in my mouth.

"So um, yeah. Hermione said we should talk?" the girl tries as a conversation starter.

"So talk."

She gives me this annoyed look. It's almost funny. "Um, what, uh, what are you reading? Some spell book?"

"Portkeys."

"Portkeys? I didn't know they taught those here."

"They don't; I'm teaching myself."

"Oh, that's um, nice," she responds lamely.

The girl's flailing around here pretty bad. I should poke at her more, really enjoy her suffering here. Instead I have to throw her a life line. This is what I get for promising to be nice.

"So did Hermione suggest what you should talk about, or did she just send you over here with nothing?" I ask.

"She said I should talk about things that I hate or annoy me."

"Fine, so what pisses you off?"

"What, you want to just hear me ranting?"

"Why the hell not." I shrug. This better be good or Hermione's going to owe me big.

She looks at me for a bit, like she thinks this is a trap or something. Apparently she decides it's not. "All right, you know what pisses me off? Fleur Delacour."

"Fleur? Why?"

"Have you seen her? She all up and prances around in that tiny outfit of hers. I mean, who is she trying to fool? I was here when all the Beauxbatons girls were here. Their uniforms didn't look like that. They actually covered things. Their skirts weren't stupid short. There wasn't any cleavage shown at all. And they didn't wear heels like that."

"Her outfit's a problem?"

"Absolutely it is. Have you see how everyone stares? It's like she thrives on it, just struts all around the school just so she can watch everyone gawk and drool. Merlin, it's like the idiot boys don't know there's other girls around, and she loves every second of it, you can see it, this haughty grin she always has. She knows exactly what she's doing, and she loves it."

"Every school has an alpha girl."

"Oh, you mean Cho, who all of a sudden has decided to act like she's Merlin's gift to the world?

"Yeah, I suppose she does qualify," I agree.

"Yeah, because that's what Hogwarts needed? Some tart prancing around like Merlin's gift. I mean really, what is she trying to prove going around dressed like that? What, that's she a harlot? She could just say so and we'd believe her. Instead she just goes around half naked. Seriously, what is the doing, advertising? Last I saw she had a boyfriend. So why's she acting like she hocking something that's not supposed to be for sale? Or maybe she's just a big tease. All some stupid ego trip for the most stuck up girl in the school. Oh, look at me, I've got big boobs and long legs! Everyone stare at me! I even got the Boy Who Lived as my pet. But that's all you get to do because I'm too good for any of you.

"Not like she treats Harry well, just spending all his uncle's money like that. Seriously, thirty or forty, even fifty galleons on a pair of shoes? Come on, I don't care how good they look, there's no way to justify that. But I suppose if you're just some big free loader it's fine, right? And then when she gets called on it it's like she doesn't care, she's too busy checking if she actually got caught for it all or not.

"Oh, and did you see her at the DA? She wants to beat people up now? Be some kind of super oriental fighter or something? Come on, talk about living down to the worst clichés. Not that she's any good at it. Really, did you see? She practically fell on her butt. Probably just learning so she can do a few high kicks and flash her panties at people. Well, assuming she has any. You never know."

God, this girl can bitch with the best of them; it's hilarious. "Just a little bit bitter there, eh?"

"Bitter? Just what do you think that I'm bitter about? What, that Fleur and Cho have better figures than me? They're years older than me, of course they do. Let's see them at my age? I bet I'd do just fine. Or that they're going around flaunting like little tramps? Yeah, a bit annoying, but hey, their lives, if they don't want any self respect, fine. It'd be nice if every idiot boy in school wasn't staring at them constantly though.

"Or maybe how Cho has Harry as her boyfriend and doesn't seem to care? Takes him for granted? Treats him terribly? Acts like he's nothing special? Yeah, maybe a little. Maybe I do think she's acting like she doesn't deserve him."

"What, you had a crush on Potter or something?" I ask.

"So what if I did? It's not like he chose me, or even looked at me. But if he had you wouldn't see me taking him for granted or stealing money from his relatives or advertising to the whole bloody school like that. If you're in a relationship you should be in a relationship, not say you are then show off like you're in the market."

So the girl weasel has a crush on Potter eh. Pretty long standing one sounds like too. And he didn't notice her at all. Hmm, not sure why, she's younger but she's got a decent chest, you'd think a guy would notice. Must be some fucked up family thing between Potter and the weasels.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it?" It's the first thing she's said in a while that isn't part of a long rant.

"Yeah, do about it. You think Cho doesn't deserve him and that you obviously do, so what are you going to do? Just bitch to me, or are you going to actually make a plan to get what you want?"

"A Slytherin like you would think of something like that. You can't just make some evil scheme to fall in love."

"Actually, you can," I point out with a smirk.

"All right, fine, maybe you did. Not that any of us knows what happened or why Hermione is still with you."

"She's with me because she loves me."

"Yeah, so you two say." The girl weasel doesn't sound convinced. Oh well, her opinion doesn't matter.

"Believe it or not, the point is, it can work. So are you going to just keep staring at Cho and being bitter, or are you going to do something?" It's funny, the girl bitches about half the school staring at Cho, and I'm willing to be she does as much staring as anyone. It may be bitter and jealous rather than lust filled, but it's still staring.

"I'm not going to plot to steal Harry or fight Cho for him or whatever sort of weird things you Slytherin did. Hermione told me some of that stuff. It's twisted, and I'm not going to do it. You might not be bad to vent to, but I'll pass on relationship advice from you, thanks."

So that's the end of my little talk with the girl weasel. Actually it was pretty amusing; the girl can really bitch and rant with the best of them, it's funny. Even funnier is that no matter how much she denies it, I know she'll be thinking about how to steal Potter for herself. Not that I expect it to work; Potter would have to be an idiot to break up with a girl like Cho. Still, could be fun to see the girl weasel try. Best would be if she did fight Cho; God help her if she did that. But I don't think she's that dumb. No, that won't happen. But she'll think about what to do, and I'm sure she'll be back to vent more and try to get my advice on what she can do while trying her hardest to make sure she looks like she isn't doing exactly that.

All in all, Hermione was right; the girl weasel isn't totally bad after all.

 **Fleur**

Sadly, you can't get a subscription to any French newspapers in this castle, just the local British ones. I've seen students here reading a few of them, so I looked to see if any were worth reading. That _Quibbler_ one was good for a cheap laugh, but even that lasted only a few minutes. The official paper is marginally better, though it's supposedly been a heavy government propaganda outlet at times. Still, it's better than nothing, so I read the _Prophet_.

I pick it up and start to read the front page. Unfortunately, many people here get the paper, and one of them seems to feel the need to read aloud from it.

"Extensive battles between Death Eaters and the so called Order of the Phoenix continue all across Britain. Neither side seems able to achieve a decisive advantage over the over, and civilians are increasingly caught in the crossfire. Ministry Aurors respond to each outbreak, but so far both groups have been quick to flee at the first sign of a Ministry response, leaving only the Dark Mark in the sky or the burning (and as of yet nameless) phoenix design on the ground." Hermione reads from the paper. English may not be my first language, but I am perfectly capable of reading a newspaper without her having to do it for me.

"So they're fighting for real now," Ron states the obvious.

"Sounds like it. But that burning phoenix mark is new." Harry's right, it is new; so new this is the first I've heard of it in fact.

"Maybe it's meant to scare Death Eaters?" that Ginny girl suggests. "Or for the Order to mark territory they take back or liberate?"

"If you want to send a message burn the mark into some idiot's flesh, not the ground," Pansy mutters. It might send a message, but I doubt it's the one the Order wants to send. But then, I didn't think they wanted open combat either, so perhaps I don't know them so well after all.

"That's not exactly the sort of tactics to use if you want to save the country," Hermione points out.

"Oh what a load. A mark lets everyone see who that Order fought, no more anonymity. Not that there really is anyway. I mean seriously, what is up with everyone having some secret society that isn't secret at all? Death Eaters? Does anyone not know who they are? That Order? I bet I can guess most of the members. The DA last year? That wasn't exactly a big mystery either. So what's the point? Everyone acts like the secret is all big and important, but it's totally not. There's no secret, but people want to keep acting like there is. What's the point?"

"The point, is that there's rules, laws," Ginny answers. "You can't just arrest someone randomly, you need evidence, proof, and with these secret groups you can't get that."

"Yeah, until someone decides not to play by the rules."

"You mean how the Death Eaters started attacking families and people's homes last time," Cho says.

"Unless the supposed good guys wise up and start doing something like that."

"What, you want to start attacking people in their houses?" Ron demands. Actually, it's one of the only times I can recall him actually talking to Pansy. Their mutual dislike is rather obvious. "I don't care if it's scum like your old boyfriend Malfoy, no one deserves to be attacked in their house."

"Oh, so it's ok to fight them if they're wearing a scary mask, but as soon as they take it off they're safe? How exactly do you expect to win that fight?"

"That's how it's done; it's what separates us from Voldermort. We don't just kill people," Harry answers.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it all before."

In a way it's funny to see this debate; I've seen it in the Order too. A few of them want to fight directly and openly, but most of them like the odd rules with masks, as that Pansy girl put it. They have families, jobs, lives and they like being able to be in the Order part time, but with no real risk to it.

What's that English saying, have your cake and eat it too? They want that. They have the house, family, money job, and it's all normal. And then on weekends, after work and times like that they fight, acting like a sort of amateur police force, gathering evidence, finding proof, building cases. Of course at work their boss may be a Death Eater. In fact, probably is, since Dumbledore seems to like that idea, have opportunities to find things out and all that.

One set of rules for their normal identities, one set for their secret. It's truly bizarre. They wanted me to play that game as well, working at Gringotts. Looking through financial records, finding money used for whatever it is Death eaters use it for that's illegal. Bribes and such I suppose. Ghastly, boring job.

Not that people were happy when I said no. It seems telling Dumbledore no is simple something that's not done. At first it was this sort of shocked silence, then people telling me I couldn't say no, how dare I, what did I know and things like that. That Weasley woman was the loudest for that, part. But I don't care how loud she shrieks, I'm simply not going to sit and look at accounting ledgers all day long.

Finally, Dumbledore suggested this job, which at the time sounded better. It really isn't though. At its best it's babysitting, spying really, watching people and reporting if they do anything dangerous or strange. At its worst, though it's absolutely nothing. When everyone has class there is literally nothing to do. Sitting through classes I've already passed in France is painfully boring. I do now and then to maintain that cover story Dumbledore made up for me, but mainly I have nothing at all to do.

Considering the Order is apparently now openly fighting (despite giving me the distinct impression they wanted nothing to do with open warfare) you'd think they could ask me to help. I have the time; I certainly know how to take care of myself. I was a Triwizard champion, the best France has to offer. Instead the Order sees fit to let house wives and middle aged desk sitters do their fighting for . This just isn't why I came to England; not at all.

But, at least I won't be bored today. My spying targets are having a party for Cho, a late birthday celebration apparently, and I've decided to go along. No one said I couldn't, after all. Besides, it's something to do.

Hogsmeade is a small little village, probably only here because of the castle. Shops that sell to students, faculty and staff, a small inn that can't have many patrons, a few bars, that sort of thing. I suppose I could have stayed here, made the Order pay for a room for a year, it seemed pointless though. Dumbledore is letting me use one of the faculty apartments in the castle, which is more spacious. Besides, if I was here there'd be endless and annoying travel between the castle and the village.

The Three Broomsticks is where this party is being held. Actually it seems like the hub of all student activity in this village. I've just sat down at the table with everyone when Ginny looks at me."Wait a minute, who invited you?"

"I eat with you all normally, so I thought I would join you here as well," I reply.

"So in other words no one."

"It's fine," Cho tells Ginny.

"You would say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you seem to have picked Fleur there to be your idol or something," Ginny explains. "You dress like her, and you go around the castle all attention loving like her."

"Idol? Hardly. But if I'm looking for a girl to emulate she's scarcely a poor choice. She's beautiful, well known, very successful in school. Just what aspect do you find so repulsive?"

I had no idea Cho picked me to emulate. So does that mean that I'm partly responsible for her going from the rather forgettable girl from two years ago to the up and coming school queen she is now? It's a flattering thought. Beautiful, athletic, well endowed, becoming famous, she actually does have a fair bit in common with me. And of course she's dating Harry. Given how similar Cho is to me, it's almost like Harry wants to date me. I wonder, did he have a crush on me two years ago? I wish I'd known; it must have been adorable to see.

"The lack of modestly maybe? Any concept of what an appropriate amount of skin to show might be? A general sense of humility?" Ginny suggests.

"Those have their value, yes, but they aren't necessarily the virtues I find most admirable."

"Well doesn't that just figure."

"Girls, come on, don't fight? Please?" Harry interrupts. "This is a party, let's all try to be nice and have fun, ok?"

"Of course, Harry," Cho agrees.

"Yeah, fine," Ginny consents as well.

So the girls play nice. Actually it's more like mostly ignoring each other, but close enough, no? I'm actually not even sure what Ginny's problem with Cho and apparently me is. Oh well, it happens. Girls being jealous of me is hardly a new experience. They just need to get over it learn to live within their limits and in their place.

Things are normal right up until the birthday cake arrives. It's quite nice looking and we all sing Happy Birthday to Cho (most people rather badly off key.) Cho cuts the cake and hand out pieces to everyone. I go to eat mine but before I manage to start, I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I look over and Ron is gone.

There are several female yells from the direction of the girl's bathroom.

"Bloody hell!" comes a yell that sounds like Ron, from the exact same place.

Ron runs out of the girl's bathroom, with a girl following him, yelling and hitting him. "Pervert. Weirdo. This is the girl's bathroom. What are you doing in here? What kind of creep are you?"

At our table Pansy breaks up laughing. "Oh my god, I can't believe it actually worked."

"What did you do?" Hermione asks.

"I used a Portkey."

"What, you have a Portkey to get into the girl's bathroom?" Ginny looks at Pansy.

"Yup."

"Why do you have something like that? For that matter why would it even exist?" Cho wants to know. "Commentary on slothfulness aside, who makes a Portkey to a public bathroom rather than their private one?"

"Someone who wants a good laugh," Pansy answers.

"Ah?"

"I made it. Then when the cake came and that buffoon was drooling over it I switched his fork with one I'd made into a Portkey."

"But they don't teach how to make Portkeys at Hogwarts," Hermione points out.

"What do you think that book I've been looking at since we got back to school was? I taught myself. What, you thought I was doing homework or something?"

"I had hopes. You do need to think about a career, after all. We're in our sixth year, there isn't much time to choose one and prepare."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, need to pick some loser job, decide which office I'll sit in doing stupid busywork for crappy pay for the rest of my life. Gee, look how eager I am."

"I know it isn't the life you planned, but there's no real alternative, Pansy."

"Ah, yes, she's noble born but was disowned?" I ask.

"Yeah, my asshole parents tossed me out. So that means no big house, no gold, none of that for me. So I have to get some shit job so I'll be able to eat and all that when I get out of school," Pansy answers.

"Hey, Hermione, you're upset that she wasn't doing her homework, not that she used some Portkey to dump me into the girl's bathroom and have everyone thinking I'm sort of a creep or pervert or something?" Ron demands.

"Relax, Ronald. It's not as if your brothers haven't targeted you for pranks before. Besides, no one was hurt, it's just a bit of momentary embarrassment," Hermione tells him.

"That was different; that was family."

"So if your brothers made that Portkey it'd be all right?"

"Well no. Um, well, maybe. It's just… it's different." Ron stammers.

"It's a wonder he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw." Pansy mutters.

"Hey, you shut the hell up."

"It's a shame the Portkey was single use."

These are the people I'm sent here to watch? A few oddballs and misfits, some of whom don't even like each other? An oddly matched lesbian couple that seems stable, if improbable and a couple that seems natural, almost expected but not necessarily so stable? Plus of course two people from that red headed family? Just what did Dumbledore think I was needed for here, relationship advice?

But then maybe I should poke at these relationships more;there might be something there to keep me entertained. Certainly it will be a better use of my time than pretending I'm writing some tedious research paper.

 **Author's Notes:**

Thanks to that-fan for his help like always. Also thanks to people who review, it's much appreciated.


	7. Here Comes a New Challenger

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Hermione**

Pansy and I are playing with her kitten (we both should be studying, but Madison's so cute I somehow can't ignore her at times like this.) I'm having fun when I'm interrupted by someone clearing their throat. I look up and see Harry there.

"Um, you have a minute, Hermione? I wanted to talk to you," he asks.

"Sure, no problem," I glance between Harry and Madison, still playing with her.

"Uh, in private?"

"Oh, some big secret? Trying to exclude me?" Pansy taunts.

"Uh, well, um…."

"Relax Harry," I cut in. "She's just having a little fun at your expense; it's fine." I get up and walk to an isolated corner of the common where Harry and I sit down and can talk in private. "All right, what's on your mind?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something from the DA. When people broke up to practice on their own and I came over, you and Parkinson were talking and um…."

"You mean how she has no problem using the Unforgivables and thinks we shouldn't either," I spare Harry the painfully awkward start to this conversation.

"Yeah. It sounded like it wasn't the first time you two have had that discussion, and um, I'm a little worried. I mean worried for you, and now that she's in the DA, it seems like if she keeps pushing for that; I'm just, I think it's something we need to talk about."

I really wish Pansy had been quiet about this; it just isn't a discussion I want to have with Harry. It's hard to have this discussion without sharing things with Harry I hadn't planned to. On the other hand, he has a point; if Pansy keeps pushing, she may have some members of the DA (that idiot Smith comes to mind) asking her to teach them the killing curse.

"This is not the easiest thing to talk about, Harry. Pansy does push for me to learn and be able to use magic like that, yes. It's not that she wants to corrupt me or whatever you may think; it's actually her being protective, odd as it may sound. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I'm all she has in the world, and given how dangerous our lives are, she's just trying to do all she can to keep both of us alive."

"Hermione, we've stayed alive just fine without killing people." I sigh a bit. I wish things were that simple, but they just aren't. "Oh, that's right, the end of last year, Narcissa Malfoy. I'm sorry."

A lie, technically, but a useful one. Narcissa didn't die, but over the summer others did at the end of Pansy's wand. I don't see any reason to correct Harry.

"That's, that's part of it, yes."

"What do you mean, part of it? I know it must have been a terrible thing to have to go through, for both of you, but it's over now. People know Voldermort's back, the Order's fighting him apparently, I just don't see you or Pansy being put in that situation again."

"I wish that were true, I really do, but it isn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Malfoy," I answer. "He tried to make a move on me. Actually he ambushed me, had me with him wand at the back of my neck. The only reason he let me go is because he didn't think it was dramatic enough without Pansy there too."

"What? Malfoy attacked you?"

"Yes, he did. His threats on the train weren't empty for once."

"What are you doing about it? You've told Dumbledore, right?"

It's a shame Harry can't see the irony of his being the one to make that statement. Last year it was me telling him to talk to Dumbledore, and him saying it would be pointless. "What would that accomplish? Professor Dumbledore would talk to Malfoy about it, he would lie and nothing more would come of it. What could he do even if he wanted? It isn't like he's in a position to get Pansy and I bodyguards."

"So what, that's it, you can't do anything?"

"I'm sure you can guess what Pansy said when I told her."

"I'm guessing that was her yelling just outside the common room the other day?"

I nod. "Yeah. The thing is, I don't agree with her, but I can see the reasoning behind her argument. If Malfoy is willing to actually try and kill us, we aren't left with many good options. We're being careful, but I know that's no real answer."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I could list off all manner of paranoid actions to take, but that would have me sounding like Alastor Moody. And most of the paranoid measures would preclude actually living in the castle, going to classes, being a prefect and so on."

"Yeah, having people out to kill you can be rough. I'll try to make sure either Ron or I are with you whenever we can. Besides that, I guess just let me know if there's anything else."

"I will. Thank you, Harry."

Harry and I part ways. I go back to sit with Pansy again.

"What'd Potter want?" she asks in greeting.

"He asked me about what we were talking about at the DA, the issue of using dark magic and the Unforgivables and so on."

"And what'd you tell him?"

"That it's not just you being evil and whatnot, that we have Malfoy trying to kill us and you're just being protective."

"What, did he think Draco wouldn't try and carry his threat out? He talks a lot of shit, but it was pretty obvious that threat on the train wasn't the same at all; I knew he meant it. Potter didn't get that?"

"I don't think he'd connected our discussion at the DA and Malfoy's threat." Pansy just rolls her eyes at that. "Regardless, it was rather clear Harry was uncomfortable with the prospect of you or anyone else teaching dark magic or the Unforgivables at the DA."

"Still acting like a little kid eh."

"Pansy, you saw the DA. Do you really think teaching them that sort of thing is appropriate?"

Pansy stops to think about that. "Ok, yeah, there's a lot of idiots in there, Longbottom, whoever the hell that idiot from Hufflepuff was, probably a bunch more if I bothered to think about it. So maybe not all, but the ones that went to the Ministry maybe?"

"Ah, you want to teach Luna Lovegood? Or better yet, Ron?"

"Ugh, the idiot weasel? No way."

"See, it's a bad idea after all." I can't help but gloat a bit.

"All right, fine, teaching them is a bad idea. I still think you need to learn though. Come to think of it, Cho might not mind. Could be a laugh teaching the girl weasel too."

"I think if Cho wants to learn the Unforgivables, she can learn how to cast them on her own, and Ginny is far too young. Though now that you mention her, I saw you two talking. How did that go?"

"That girl can bitch, let me tell you."

"Ah? What did she complain about?"

"Cho and Fleur. The girl really is really pissy about both of them."

"Why?" I ask. "Now that you mention it though, she has been hostile to both lately. Just what did you two discuss?"

"Mostly a lot of her venting about them for a while. Lot of bitching about their wardrobes and how they show off and get all the attention, that sort of thing. You know, scandalized how short their skirts are, how tight the tops are, how much skin they show, how they show off cleavage and leg, all that. Partly jealous of attention not being on her, with Cho though it's personal. Girl's got a thing for Potter it turns out."

"Yes, Ginny had a long standing crush on Harry."

"So what happened? Some weird surrogate sister thing, like the weasels are his family or some crap?"

"Largely so," I answer.

"Girl really does have her work cut out for her then."

"What do you mean?"

"Cho puts her away on looks. I mean, not that the girl weasel is terrible, but she's just not in the same league. That and Cho's already there as the girlfriend; girl weasel's really got some work ahead of her."

"I don't understand, work for what?"

"To try and steal Potter."

"What makes you think she's planning anything like that?" I was under the impression Ginny had made peace with Harry being with Cho.

"Oh please, she may talk all goody goody, but as soon as I asked if she had a plan to get Potter she was hooked. Oh, she denied it, but I know she'll be back to try and get help to steal him. Girl just has to put in a nice show and then it's on."

"Just what did you say to her?"

"Nothing, just mentioned that you can scheme to get someone. I mean in terms of a relationship."

"Pansy, that's not how things are done," I sigh.

"Yeah, right. We're exhibit A that proves you wrong, Hermione."

"All right, fine, I grant that." Really I have to, Pansy's obviously right. "Still, please, don't encourage Ginny to do anything foolish."

"Foolish? Like what?"

"I don't know. Just… try not to make a mess of Harry's life?"

"Damn, protective much?"

"Of course I am, he's practically family. Besides, you've seen his home life."

"Don't tell me, tell the girl weasel. The girl's got a bitchy side, and I'm betting vindictive too. Now that the idea's in her head I don't think she'll exactly need a lot of encouragement."

I should have known as soon as Ginny started reacting badly to Cho and Fleur that something was amiss.

 **Fleur**

I've heard that Harry is teaching a defense against the dark arts class. Apparently this was a huge thing last year, declared a terrorist organization, named an army and all that; a prime threat for the British ministry. It's legal this year, so I've decided to go see. It's after school hours, and now perfectly legal, so hardly a secret when or where it meets.

I open the door and walk in, being none too subtle about it (and fashionably late.) Everyone stops and stares at me, the sure sign of an entrance done right. "Am I late?" I greet with a smile.

"Oh, it's her," that Ginny girl mutters.

"Fleur?" Harry asks. "I didn't know you were interested in the DA."

"I'm here observing, aren't I? That means I should observe things like this then," I reply.

"Ah, well, all right then, you're welcome of course. Feel free to look around and all."

I do exactly that, seeing just what everyone around the room is up to. It seems pretty loosely organized with Harry playing teacher. Most of the students are following what he's teaching. It's pretty basic self defense stuff, with some students listening, some practicing the spells. It's a mix of all kinds of kids, most of them pretty young, I'd guess second or third year students. I think they're pretty young and underprepared to fight any of these so called Death Eaters, but who knows. Dumbledore said he wants to keep students out of the fight, but he also said the Order wouldn't be fighting directly, so maybe these students really are right to prepare?

Still, young kids learning basic magic isn't terribly entertaining, so I look to see if there's anything more worth my time in here. I decide to check in on Hermione and Pansy. Dumbledore actually finds them a fascinating couple, says he wishes he'd been here last year to see how it happened. That Weasley woman isn't so kind, having all manner of bad things to say about Pansy and what she's doing to poor Hermione. She was loud about it too. Someday I really must ask just what she brings to the table that the Order keeps her around for.

Pansy and Hermione are off on their own, which is no surprise. Apparently Pansy is some refugee from this school's evil group, so everyone stays far away. The two are doing much more direct combat spells than the main group Harry is with.

"So what's all this then?" I ask.

"Just a bit of practice," Hermione answers.

"A bit different from the rest of the group."

"The rest of the group are idiots," Pansy looks at me. "Either doing this just to help their grades and not taking it seriously or just too dumb to deal with anything serious. We've actually had people try to kill us, and even if Hermione doesn't want to go all out, we still need to know how to handle ourselves."

"Just because I don't want to go flinging around killing curses doesn't make I don't take this seriously," Hermione replies.

"No, but you still should know it. When the times comes you're going to wish you did, trust me."

I see why the others don't want to be around them; normal students don't belong around people who are talking like some sort of combat veterans who are preparing to go into more battles.

"How did you two get together in the first place?" I ask them.

"What, you weren't given detailed info on us when you agreed to spy on us?" Hmm, is Hermione still bitter about that? I was up front about it; there's no deception, I don't see what she has to be upset about.

"Why are you so bitter about that? I was asked to keep an eye on you all, I'm just doing as Dumbledore asked. And I've been totally up front about what I'm here for and why. Are you upset that the teachers here keep an eye on student behavior? Or that Aurors are there when you're outside of school?"

"Oh please, that's not the same thing and you know it. Teachers and Aurors are there to keep the peace, not spy."

"But it isn't really spying when the person is right next to you and you know what they're doing, is it? When you think about it, the alternative is so much worse, no?"

"Oh, so we should be glad you're here"

"Of course," I smile at Hermione and Pansy. "Everyone should be glad to have me around. It's a rare and precious gift, after all." Ah, vanity comes so easily to me, but overplaying it for dramatic effect, that's a special kind of joy.

Hermione seems annoyed, but Pansy laughs at least. At least one of them thought it was funny.

"I'm curious though," I change the subject, "How did your relationship start? Dumbledore had no idea, and was quite curious. Actually, he found it rather amusing. That Weasley woman, much less so."

"Yeah, I keep hearing she's an annoying loudmouth," Pansy agrees.

"Who said that?" Hermione demands.

"You said you used to go to that place over the summer but didn't because they wouldn't like me. And the way the idiot weasel talks about her, it's pretty obvious. Loud, annoying, preachy, arrogant, all that stuff. Total bitch in other words."

"Just because she isn't likely to get along with you does not make her any of those things."

"Oh, so you're saying I'm wrong?" Pansy challenges.

"She's somewhat overprotective of us, and rather clear cut in her ideas of good and evil. I think she would quickly find you the latter."

"So basically I'd call her a bitch, exactly like I already said." Hermione just shakes her head at that.

"To answer your question." Hermione looks at me, "thanks to the meddling of an idiot Slytherin girl, Pansy gained a commanding advantage in the rivalry we once had, and in trying to deal with that we wound up spending a great deal of time together. And since I'd been manipulated into kissing her and rather liked it, one thing led to another as they say."

Hmpf, a useless story. She glossed over so much that all the parts that mean anything are left out. And of course the girl is so stuck on my being a "spy" that she won't tell me a thing. Petty and childish? Of course. But also a waste of my time trying to find out more Cho will prove more entertaining.

Earlier she was practicing rapid fire spells, and was rather good at it, but now it seems she's moved on to some sort of melee combat. It looks like it could be impressive once she has it down, a lot of high kicks and such, but she isn't there yet. Looking impressive is a process; most people just see the finished product but have no idea how much work it takes to get there. This isn't exactly the sort of showing off I've done, but it's close enough that I know a girl won't want to be bothered by an audience until she's ready.

So for the moment Cho is out. I still want to talk to her, get to know her and such, but obviously this isn't the time. Given that and how little I got out of Hermione this has been a rather dismal evening.

 **Hermione**

I've been trying to figure it out all day, and I just can't. There's a story in this morning's _Prophet_ that I just can't make sense of.

 _Another day, another attack. As has happened on so many other days, Death Eaters attacked the innocent citizens of our great nation. And as has become the norm, these criminals were met by the equally criminal Order of the Phoenix. The two groups fought, inflicting damage on both each other and the property and citizens unlucky enough to be around them. Unlike previous days, however, it was not the Aurors but a vigilante who repelled the attack._

 _This hero, who was described as wearing completely covering robes and a mask of undetermined but likely foreign origin is said to have easily repelled both attacking groups, successfully dueling as many as four opponents at once and nearly a dozen in total. The entire battle lasted only a few minutes, with the veiled hero being long gone by the time Ministry Aurors arrived on scene. Several Death Eaters were left incapacitated, however, and have been taken into custody._

 _It is unknown who this veiled hero is, but his skill in defending the citizenry was undeniable, and his praises freely sung by those who witnessed the battle. While we all are pleased to see such an attack repelled, one can't help but wonder if the recent turmoil is partly as a result of the turnover at the Ministry of Magic. Clearly the Ministry is not as able to carry out its duties as it once was, particularly when it comes to the protection of its citizens._

A veiled hero, and one who is quite capable in a fight. I haven't a clue who it could be. Dumbledore is an obvious choice, along with a few of the teachers possibly, but I can't imagine why they would conceal their appearance. If the Order is openly fighting the Death Eaters, then why not continue on that track? There'd be no need for a mask. So who could it be?

I wish I knew wizarding society better. The fact is, I have no idea who the possible suspects even are; there can't be many who can duel at such a level. I'll have to ask someone, Pansy or Ginny or Ron perhaps. I just hope one of them would know this sort of thing.

I've been reading and rereading that article all day, trying to find some piece of information I may have missed. By evening I'm still doing it in the common room when Ginny plops down onto the couch next to me.

"I can hear you obsessing from across the room," she greets me.

"You can't actually hear someone obsess you know," I reply.

"Funny, it'd was pretty deafening from where I was sitting."

"Hilarious."

"So let me guess, the new guy in the mask? You're trying to figure out who he is? Put together a suspect list, checking names off it and all that?"

"Unfortunately no. I have no suspect list at all."

"Huh? Why not?" Ginny almost sounds disappointed in me.

"I don't know wizarding society to even have an idea who the possibilities are. I don't think it's Professor Dumbledore or any of the faculty or staff here. Unfortunately, outside them and your family I know essentially no adults in the wizarding world. I was actually hoping you, Ron or Pansy could help. Do you know anyone who could duel so many people at once and win?"

"How would I know that?"

"You grew up in the wizarding world, it stands to reason you would know."

"What, if it was a Muggle who took on four people at once in a fight, you'd know who it was?" Ginny demands.

"Not off the top of my head, but I'd have some idea of where to begin. Professional athletes, boxers, martial artists, that sort of thing."

"Yeah well, the wizard professional athletes are Quidditch players, hardly the super duelist sorts."

"Cho is," I point out.

The annoyance on Ginny's face is clear as day.

"What's that look about? You didn't used to have a problem with Cho; you even helped Harry's relationship with her out in its early stages. What changed?"

"Changed? I don't know."

"All right, how about this, how do you feel about Cho?"

"Hermione, you really want to get into this?"

"Pansy told me about your talk. You seemed to have a lot to say about Cho then."

"I guess."

This is obviously a somewhat uncomfortable topic for Ginny, and I'm not entirely sure why. Guilt over her dislike for Cho? Or maybe not wanting me to see this angry side of her?

"Ginny, what's going on? Something changed, so what happened?"

"Ok, fine, I was ok with it last year. Well, sort of. I mean I'd rather it'd have been me instead of Cho, but I lived with it. It was nice seeing Harry happy and they made a nice couple and all, so yeah, fine. But you can't tell me you look at that couple now and think it's ok? Blowing all his money over the summer? Dressing like she's in some pin up photo shoot or something stupid like that? She's supposed to be spoken for, so why doesn't she look like it? She's taking him for granted, taking advantage of him. I don't know if she doesn't care about him, sees him as a stepping stone or some way to raise her profile or what, and really, I don't care. Whatever's going on, it isn't right."

"Maybe some of that is true, maybe even all, but it doesn't matter. Their relationship is their business, and how it works or doesn't is their business and no one else's."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to watch this slow motion disaster? Any other guy would have figured it out by now; Harry's just too inexperienced with girls to see it."

"From what I've seen most males would be happy if their girlfriends dressed like that," I comment. It's usually Ginny who gets to drop lines like that. It feels good.

"Yeah, and then when the girl doesn't put out they'd be pissed," Ginny still outdoes me in bluntness.

"Perhaps so."

"No look, I'm his friend, and I don't just want to sit here and watch him get hurt."

"You must see the rather obvious conflict of interest here."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"I mean you have a vested interest in this. As in, you aren't just upset that Harry is with Cho, given her current behavior and sense of style; you're upset that Harry isn't with you."

"So what?"

"So it's coloring your observations and conclusions."

"What, it's suddenly made me hate egotistical show offs? You think I'd have liked girls like the new and improved Cho and Fleur, regardless of whether Harry was dating a girl like that or not? Not bloody likely, Hermione."

"But you wouldn't be thinking about breaking them up if you didn't have a vested interest."

"Who said I'm trying to break them up?"

"I told you, Pansy filled me in on your discussion."

"And what, she said I'm trying to break them up? That's a damned lie." No, not defensive here, not one little bit.

"No, she didn't say that. She said she raised the issue; you said you weren't doing anything like that, but she also said she got the distinct impression that now that she suggested it you'd be giving it serious thought, and given your hostility to Cho of late, Pansy's analysis seems to hold water."

"Is that what this is, all some big 'don't mess with Harry and Cho' thing?"

"It's a friend who's concerned about her best friend. Granted I don't have the experience with relationships you do, but even I know that meddling in places that are so inherently emotional can lead to people getting hurt. Things don't always go how you expect or want and that can lead to some very bad results."

"I don't have some evil scheme in the works or anything if that's what you're worried about." Ginny is polite enough to leave the last part of that statement off. The part that says not everyone is like my girlfriend in that they see and participate in evil schemes constantly.

"That's fine, but I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't say something. I don't want to see you, Harry or Cho get hurt. I'm just trying to look out for everyone here."

"All right, you've done your job and all."

I'm not sure Ginny will listen to my warning. She has far more experience in relationships than I, and if she wants to, she can rationalize meddling I'm sure. So I have no idea whether she'll listen to me or not, but at least I did my best to try and help.

"There is the first thing still, however," I make sure to not let the conversation die. "Do you know who that masked wizard could be?"

"Not really. Not like I keep some list of powerful wizards. I mean, anyone like that was born way before me so they aren't anyone I'd run into, and I don't really read the news a ton either, not like you do. So I have no idea. I doubt Ron does either; he's more clueless about most things than I am."

"I'll have to ask Pansy then."

"You can ask, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"Why?"

"Her parents were Death Eaters. Any big time wizards they knew are going to be Death Eaters too. So yeah, she's not exactly going to know a lot of people who'd be fighting Death Eaters."

"Would Cho know? Or Fleur? There must be someone?"

"I wouldn't think a French girl is going to know big time British wizards, Hermione."

"So I'm completely out of luck?" I sigh.

"Unless you know some grown up who'd be plugged into whatever place a wizard like that hero guy might hang out in."

"The only wizard I know of who'd be in wizarding societies like that is Professor Dumbledore. Or maybe Professor Flitwick."

"There, see, you've got a lead," Ginny smiles at me.

"Some lead. I don't think Professor Dumbledore is going to give me what I need to meddle in an open war, and I barely know Professor Flitwick, so that's a dead end as well."

"And is that really such a terrible thing? We're schoolgirls, Hermione. Can't you just be ok with that and let the grownups run the war? Would that really be so terrible?"

"No, of course not. But look at the track record; things with Voldermort have a way of becoming our problem even if we don't' want them to."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing there's a new hero to prevent that, right?"

 **Author's Notes:**

Sorry it took so long for this update. Just how it goes sometimes, between things coming up and in general things aren't always going great, so delays happen, sorry. Anyway, next chapter will be up soon, doing another chapter of this story next, not alternating to my Hunger Games one.

As always, thanks to that-fan for his help, and thanks to everyone who reviews. They're much appreciated.


	8. Fight Night

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Fleur**

I'm waiting for that statue leading to Dumbledore's office to finish opening; it's absurdly slow doing it. It's the first class of the day, so he should be in there. That and it's early in the day so even he can't have gotten distracted by some fascinating thing or another. I finally get to his office door, knock and go inside.

"Ah, Miss Delacour, good morning," he greets me.

"Good morning," I reply. "I think it's about time we talked."

"Yes, of course. Your time spend with the children has been fruitful, I take it?"

"Not really. I mean, these are just students; I don't see what the big need to keep an eye on them is. They aren't doing anything exceptional or unusual, just normal school things."

"Yes, their past years tended to go similarly as well. Inevitably a point came when normal was left far behind, however. Should such a time come again, I would feel far better knowing you are there to aid them. Even more so if you should be able to give me advance warning so other protective measures can be taken as well."

"I'll keep watching and all."

"What of the other matter I was curious about?"

"What, those two girls, Hermione and Pansy? I talked to them, but didn't get much out of it. Pansy seems fine with me, but Hermione's still stuck on me being there to spy on them."

"They think you're spying on them?"

"Aren't I? Isn't that what I'm there to do? Watch them and report back to you."

"You are there for their protection," Dumbledore tries to argue.

"Fine, call it both. You cannot tell me spying isn't part of it though. And Hermione hasn't gotten over that so far, so all I got is some super short version of how they got together that had no details and basically meant nothing."

"Ah, a pity. Still, we are less than halfway into the year, so perhaps things will yet change."

"We'll see," I shrug. I'm worried Dumbledore's curiosity about these girls is the real reason I'm here.

"I thank you for all your work, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore tries to dismiss me.

"Actually, this isn't why I came in."

"Oh? Then what is on your mind?"

"I said I wanted to fight when I joined up. You said it wouldn't happen, and after some back and forth, I agreed to be here. English may not be my first language, but I am quite literate in it, and I do read the paper."

"You mean the stories about the Order fighting the Death Eaters in public."

"That's right. I may be young but I'd put my skills against most anyone in the Order. I'm the best France has to offer. But I'm here while you have house wives and desk sitters out fighting. Now not only can I do more than them, you lied to me. I'm not happy here, Dumbledore, not at all."

"I am sorry for your dissatisfaction, Miss Delacour, but I'm afraid the assumptions your complaints are based on are in error."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"To be specific, the Order is not openly fighting the Death Eaters as you claim. In fact, there have been no direct engagements since the incident at the Ministry at the start of the summer," Dumbledore explains.

"What are you talking about? It's all over the paper practically every day."

"Indeed it is. I read the articles as do you. They are, however, in error."

"Error? What do you mean? Just what's going on here?"

"What is going on is a mystery. What I do know, is this: no members of the Order have engaged the Death Eaters in combat. I have not sanctioned any actions and I have personally spoken to all members and am completely confident that none of them have carried out any actions on their own."

"So just what's going on? Is that paper making things up? It has before, no?" I ask.

"I do not believe the stories are fabricated; there are too many witnesses, and my discrete inquiries to them have led me to believe that battles between the Death Eaters and people claiming to be the Order did in fact occur. However, those claiming to be the Order are not in fact part of it. Additionally, the burning phoenix mark is not one the Order uses. Like you, I first heard of it in _The Prophet_."

"So you're going around in a mask to try and fix things now?"

Dumbledore laughs at that. "I'm far too old for such melodrama. I leave that to those much closer to your age."

"That's not you then either?"

"It is not," Dumbledore confirms. "Nor do I believe it to be anyone from the Order."

"You mean your war is being fought by a group that isn't you, but is using your name, with some fancy new leader and you have no idea who any of the people involved are?"

"I assure you all measures to ascertain the identities of those involved that can be made are being made. But this is a concern for me. Your concern is the observation and safety of several students in this castle. Now please, try not to worry. In time these questions will be answered."

I had no idea when I left France that this is how it would be.

 **Pansy**

Hermione and I are on our prefect rounds, which means we're going to our classroom for some fun. Students should be in their dorms at this hour, unless they have permission to be out late, to the library or something which is pretty rare, so the castle is basically empty. Still, it's a castle full of teenagers, so there's always some sign of life, some kid rushing up to his dorms with an arm full of books, some couple sneaking around, a fat slob sneaking food from the kitchens, something, even if it's just sounds of people in the distance. Tonight there's none of that.

I look around, I'm not sure for what. There's nothing that seems out of the ordinary, just an empty castle, completely devoid of people. Not a sound except for Hermione's and my footsteps; the sound of my high heels on the stone floor echoing through the corridors. Something about this feels wrong; an empty castle that's too empty, no sounds except for us.

That's when I see it, near the floor, behind an archway down a side corridor: the hem of a black cloak.

"Hermione," I whisper, drawing my wand, trying to keep a casual look and not be too obvious about arming myself.

She looks over at me and sees I've armed myself and does the same. "Something feels wrong to you too?"

"Yeah. I saw the hem of a robe down a corridor back there too."

"Ambush," Hermione states the same conclusion I came to.

We keep walking, trying to look casual, like we don't know we're about to be attacked. We probably should have a better plan, some place in mind to get to, backup or a safe zone or something, but we don't; we're far from any of the dorms or the library. Basically, isolated

I hear someone casting a spell behind us and dive towards the wall just on my left. I land and look over to see that Hermione had the same idea and dove for cover as well. Ok, my girl's alive. I aim my wand back the way we came and fire off a spell, a big spray of flame. It's flashy, but not particularly dangerous; a stall.

Hermione obviously has the same thought, firing off some sort of flashy light show spell. We get to our feet and run for it. We don't get any farther than the next intersection in the corridor before we see two more figures there, heavy black robes and masks on their faces, blocking our way.

"Crap," I swear.

"This way," Hermione orders, taking a left at the intersection to avoid the assholes in our way.

We keep firing spells behind us, not even stopping to aim, and get some sent our way in return. The funny thing is, none of the spells coming at us are lethal. Oh, it'll be bad if we get hit by one, hurt like hell and be down for those assholes to catch us, but they won't be instantly fatal either.

Spells fly back and forth as we run, none seeming to hit anything other than walls that get scorched and in some cases even cratered by the impacts. The only time the spells fired in our direction seem to get accurate is whenever we've got a choice which way to go. Other corridors to go down, stairs to take, things like that. Any time that happens spells always seem to get heavy and leave us an obvious out.

"We're being herded," Hermione says what I was just thinking.

"Pretty obvious, yeah."

"They must have something set up in an isolated area of the castle; some place to attack in force."

"Well that sounds cheerful."

"It's the facts of the situation, Pansy."

Wherever this ambush point of theirs is, it's pretty high up; they've been forcing us up a lot of stairs. We've got to be on the fifth floor by now, maybe sixth or even the seventh. We keep running and then suddenly we round a corner and start down another corridor, seemingly just like the dozens we've run through in the past few minutes, but in this one the spells cast in our direction have suddenly vanished. I stop and look around, trying to see what's going on and figure out exactly where we are.

"Dead end," Hermione announces.

"Huh?"

"This corridor dead ends, that door at the end just leads to a classroom."

Shit.

"Nowhere left to run," Draco's voice echoes through the halls, coming from somewhere not terribly far behind us.

Hermione and I don't stick around to see if there's a monologue coming our way. Instead we run to the classroom at the end of the hallway and slam the door behind us, locking it. Hermione starts casting some spells on it and I go for the windows.

"Windows are out as an option," I state. "We're way high up and no way I want to get caught in the middle of some half assed escape attempt. God knows what's at the bottom here too. Probably sharp rocks or some shit." I don't know how much time we have, and the last thing we need is to be caught half out the window, easy for Draco to kill.

"This won't hold for long," Hermione finishes casting her spells on the door.

"We could pile some of the desks and chairs up, try and barricade the door." It's not much of an idea, really. It'll slow Draco and his asshole minions down, but that's it. Still, it's something so Hermione and I start piling furniture up.

"Save the teacher's desk. We can flip it on its side and use it for cover, like a bunker."

There's where we go, go to die I guess; hiding behind a fucking desk, waiting for Draco god damned Malfoy to come kill us. That is one small time way to go.

Hermione and I kneel behind that desk for a bit, until the banging starts on the door. First it sounds like fists, then after a pause it's the sound of spells impacting on whatever barrier Hermione put up.

"Is it really as easy to cast as you said? The killing curse I mean?" Hermione asks apprehensively.

I look at Hermione before answering, seeing if she's really serious. "Yeah. Just point your wand and say the words. It's easy. You just have to mean it. That's the thing that really makes it work, that killing intent."

"All right." Not sure what to make of Hermione's answer there.

"You sure you're ready to go there? I know I've pushed and all…."

"They're coming to kill us, Pansy; probably more than that…. When all is said and done I expect they'll rape and torture us if they have their way. I'll be damned if I just let that happened. It doesn't really matter whether I like the idea of killing or not, does it? Things are clearly at that level, so yes, I'm ready to go there, and god willing I'll take enough of them down that they have no choice but to end us cleanly, none of that lingering death that I'm sure Malfoy has planned."

Valid thoughts. I've been trying to get Hermione to this point, where she wouldn't hold back just because she's supposed to and would do what she thinks is best. Shame she got there about ten seconds before we're both going to die.

"Listen, Pansy," Hermione continues, "I'm sorry things got to this point, but I, I love you."

I want to respond to Hermione, the last nice words we're likely to ever speak, but I can't. Instead the door and all the furniture pile in front of it explodes in towards us with all the force Malfoy and however many minions he has with him could muster in the form of spells bombarding it all. Hermione and I stay low behind our desk/bunker and wait for the dust to settle and the battle to start.

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice roars from out in the hall. It's old, but strong. It's the god damned old man; Dumbledore. What the hell? "You will all lower your wands and come with me at once."

We all get marched to Dumbledore's office, me, Hermione, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and nine more of Malfoy's cloaked goons. A baker's dozen of assholes all here to kill us. Seriously, overkill much? McGonagall and Snape are waiting in the old man's office. Pretty damned crowded with eighteen of us all in here at once.

"So, would anyone care to explain what's going on?" the old man asks. No one wants to respond. "Two students barricaded in one room and thirteen outside breaking down the door. Shall we draw our own conclusions from that?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but I squeeze her hand and she stops and looks at me. I just shake my head a bit at her. Not sure what she thinks she's going to say here, but I don't see how it can help. When crap like this happens people in charge love to hear themselves talk, lecture on about what happened and how smart they are to figure it all out and what was going on and why and all that crap. Better to let them go off on their ego trip without interrupting. That way they can get that hit over and done with.

"Minerva, perhaps you could take Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson to your office and deal with them there?" Dumbledore asks. Not that I even have a family name at the moment, but what the fuck ever.

So we follow the old woman up to her office. I don't really know if it's an upgrade or not. I guess no Draco is better. Not that he's going to start shit with teachers around, but he's a dick and I'm a lot happier if he isn't anywhere near me.

The old woman sits behind her desk and stares at us. Another power trick, the desk while the people you're talking to have to stand, and the stare. Show who's boss and all that.

"So, what happened?" McGonagall demands. "Out with it."

"We were attacked," Hermione cracks right away. "We were heading down for our prefect rounds when we were ambushed. People in black robes and masks, they fired spells on us and herded us to that dead end corridor. We barricaded ourselves into the classroom at the end. That's where Professor Dumbledore found us."

"I see. Quite the incident, thirteen students after two. And out of the clear blue sky no less."

I can see the guilt crap working on Hermione, so I cut in before she can say something, apologize to the old woman or whatever crap this is supposed to get in response. "Out of the clear blue sky? We killed Malfoy's mother at the end of last year. What, you thought he'd let that go?"

"Quite odd that he would wait until so far into the year to try and take his revenge."

Even with my best efforts I kept Hermione from spilling her guts for about five seconds. "He threatened us on the train, explicitly said he would kill us. Then here at the castle he ambushed me, put his wand to the back of my neck. He was going to kill me, but changed his mind; he liked the theatricality of killing us together."

"And I'm only hearing about this now why?"

"What was the point of telling you?" I ask. "What were you going to do? Call him into Dumbledore's office and then what? Draco denies it all and that's that. And even if you all believed us, what would you do? Tell us to be careful? We don't need someone to tell us that."

"Miss Parkinson, we take the safety of our students very seriously here at Hogwarts. I assure you a credible threat on the lives of two of our girls would be taken most seriously."

I laugh at that; I can't help myself. I'm sure it'll piss her off and make things worse, but seriously, come on. "Take safety seriously? Voldermort was in the castle my first two years. Hermione and her friends faced him. They were eleven years old, then twelve. How is that safe? Then there's the Dementors. Real safe there. But hey, there was a fatality the year after that, so I guess Dementors aren't so bad. Last year it was Narcissa Malfoy instead of one of us, but that could have gone the other way just as easily. So please, don't try and tell me how seriously you all take our safety. I take my safety seriously, and I take Hermione's safety seriously. The rest of you? Not so much from where I'm sitting."

The old woman looks like I just ripped her heart out and showed it to her. "You are correct, our efforts to keep you all safe have not always measured up. I could cite reasons beyond our control, but in the end it makes little difference I suppose. But I would think that you of all people, Miss Parkinson, would know that our past does not necessarily rule our futures. Whatever the issues in the past, I would ask that you do believe me that everyone here at Hogwarts takes your safety seriously, and we will do everything possible to keep you from harm. But that presumes that you let us know any potential threats."

"But professor," Hermione interrupts, "what could you have done in a case like this?"

"What could have been done is exactly what was done. Professor Dumbledore had put into place measures watched for abnormal student movement, such as over a dozen students from one house out after hours, and particularly aberrant spell usage, such as a large number of spells used in rapid succession at a time and place where none should be in use."

In other words, exactly what happened. Explains how the old man was able to show up for no obvious reason though. So he still has a few clever tricks left in him.

It also explains why we're obviously not here for punishment. I'm sure Draco's little talk is going a lot differently than ours. In fact, ours just has the old woman making us promise to tell her if anything like this happens again and sending us on our way. It's almost anti climactic in a way; usually when I'm a part of something like this whole incident I have to lie and be creative and convincing about it before I get to walk.

Still, there is one more thing to do today, and a hand on Hermione's arm stops her just outside the entrance to Gryffindor for it.

"What's wrong?" Hermione looks at me.

"Nothing. There's just some unfinished business before we go in," I reply.

"Unfinished business?"

"Back in that classroom, you said you loved me." Hermione's said it a lot of times, she's sappy like that. I've never actually said the words back to her though. Not that I don't love her, and I know she knows, it just really isn't my style to say things like that usually. Still though, if the door hadn't broken when it did, I would have told her. I know she'd have really liked it.

"That's right, I do."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to say, I mean we got interrupted and stuff, but, I love you too."

Hermione just stares at me for a bit, apparently speechless. Then all at once her arms are around me, hugging me for all she's worth. It doesn't take long for the hug to evolve into a very passionate kiss.

Not that this should have changed anything; Hermione knew how I felt. For her though, hearing the words obviously made a huge difference.

 **Harry**

Our Quidditch season's looking a lot better. Sure, we're huge underdogs in our first game against Ravenclaw, but our chances are a lot better in our second game against Slytherin. Having every single member of their team hit with an out of school suspension until after Christmas will do that.

Slytherin will probably still make the finals; they have the whole second half of the year, but a win will be good for our team. It beats the heck out of hoping to beat Hufflepuff for our only victory of the year. So now that we have a chance for some early success Ron and I are trying to plan out a strategy we can have the team learn in time.

"Bloody lucky the entire team got bounced," Ron comments. "Kind of a surprise too. I mean, I know Malfoy's a right git and threatened Hermione on the train, but to actually get his gang to attack them? Try to kill them? That's nuts."

"It wasn't the first time, you know. He ambushed Hermione earlier in the year," I tell Ron.

"What? When? Why the hell didn't someone tell me?"

"Not long ago. And you'd have to ask Hermione why she didn't tell you. Probably because she figured you'd over react."

"Overreact? When have I over reacted?" I just stare at Ron. It doesn't take him long to figure it out. "All right, fine, maybe I over react a little. But come on, she's my friend, and she's a girl. You don't let girls get treated like that."

"So if it were Parkinson that got ambushed you'd feel the same?"

Ron has to stop and think about that for a while. "She can take care of herself."

"She's been Hermione's first protector since they got together too," I add.

"Yeah, I guess. Was with her at the Ministry and all. But whatever, we've got a Quidditch game to get ready for, right?"

"Yeah, right. So, you have ideas for Slytherin?"

"Sure. So they're new, not used to working together, so I figure we use that against them."

"Our team isn't that used to flying together either," I point out.

"No, but we've got more time under our belts than the snakes will. So I figure we use that, try and have our team create odd man rushes, adjust our formations so people can go in pairs real easily if there's a chance. Also I think we should see who everyone's most comfortable with, have a go to person for them to pass to or get help from. You know, like having people in the area ready to help out who have good chemistry with each other."

"Isn't that stuff every team tries for?"

"It is, yeah. The thing is, I think we kind of just focus on that, don't bother with regular plays and formations and stuff."

"Wait, that's just a long way to say we improvise the game, isn't it?" I ask.

"It sounds better the way I said it," Ron insists.

"Yeah, but really, that's no plan at all."

"No, it's a realistic one. Look, this team hasn't flown together a ton, and a few of them haven't flown much period, you know that. Yeah, later in the year we'll teach them real formations and plays and all that, but it's not going to work so well right away. So I say we put it off until this Slytherin game, save the ugly learning and take the easy win."

"It's not a guaranteed win, you know. They're all going to be new, but we're not far from that either."

"Yeah, but else can we do? You think these kids are ready to learn real plays and stuff? Maybe some, but it only takes one person to make a lot fall apart. And after what your girlfriend is probably going to do to our team I don't think complex flying is going to be what they want to learn."

"And if we lose that second game the team will feel even worse."

"Look mate, there's no sure thing here. It's a new team, stuff can happen, good or bad. But you're the captain, so you tell me, what do you want to do?"

Ah, the fun of being captain. "All right, we'll do it your way, Ron."

 **Fleur**

Another week, another DA meeting. They aren't very entertaining, but then, neither is night life in the local village. Actually there is none to speak of, I looked. One or two pubs with half a dozen generically British people each, sitting on their stools, probably the same stools they were one ten years ago, twenty years ago, maybe forty years ago, all complaining about their pathetic boring lives. I couldn't leave fast enough. No clubs or actual life, no activity that could remotely qualify as fun, just sad people older than my parents. It's mind numbing. And even worse are the looks I get. I'm an outsider, it's obvious, but the gawking stares haven't let up even after all these weeks and months. The novelty of a Veela in the town must wear off someday, no? I'm beginning to think it might not.

"All right, I was thinking we'd change things up a bit today," Harry starts the meeting. "I know people have asked about this, so how about we spend the evening on some dueling?"

That gets a lot of nods and even a few cheers. It's something people have clearly wanted for quite some time. This may be called an army (someone had a real sense of humor when that name was picked) but it's really mostly just a collection of teenagers, several of whom don't get along and seem to see this as free reign to fight.

"Now this doesn't mean anything goes brawls," Harry tries to explain. A lot of people aren't listening to him though. "Keep it civilized and under control, and remember, I'll be the referee, so if I say to stop, then stop, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm up first then," Ron steps forward. "I'm thinking I can show Smith how it's done."

Zacharias Smith seems to be the resident dolt and all around ass. He's made no effort to make friends and seems quite content to be hated by people, Ron most of all. I rather doubt this will be the friendly duel Harry envisioned.

"Maybe we should start with someone else." Harry suggests. "It's probably be better if you found someone else to try your hand at, Ron, but at the very least if you're determined to take Smith on give it some time, let a few other people go first please." Hoping that Ron calms down obviously. Probably that a few civilized duels will set a tone as well. Not a bad move.

"Fine, I'll try Cho then," Ginny offers.

"Ginny, she's two years older than you. She might not be a good opponent for you," Hermione warns.

"Yeah? That'll make it all the more humiliating if she loses then."

"If she wants to it's fine with me," Cho accepts the challenge.

"Maybe we make this interesting. If I win, you have to not dress trampy for a week."

"Sophomoric bets? I'm not twelve anymore. Besides, what business is it of yours how I choose to dress? Though I suppose if you need some advice on how to dress to get more male attention I suppose I can help."

"Oh shut up, I get all the attention I want."

"Then I fail to see what cause you have to complain, and I certainly can't grasp how any of this could relate to me."

"If you want to dress like a tramp all on your own, that's your business, tart it up all you want. But you've got a boyfriend, got him last year and were a nice couple and all. So why are you advertising, making like you're on the market?"

"Advertising? It's well known throughout the castle I'm in a relationship. To whom exactly do you think I'm advertising? For that matter, what business is it of yours?"

"It's my business because Harry's my friend and I don't like seeing him being made a fool of like this."

"Who's making a fool of me?" Harry asks. The poor boy, he should know better than to get in the middle of this.

"Stay out of this, Harry. It's time someone put this girl in her place." Ginny doesn't even look at Harry when she says that.

"Put her in her place? That sounds like a good idea, actually," Cho agrees.

"Uh…." Harry isn't sure.

"Harry, trust me, you don't want to get in between those two right now," I tell him.

"So we going to do this?" Ginny asks.

"Of course," Cho agrees.

The girls get several paces distance between each other and face off. The duel starts and goes exactly how I expected. Cho is two years older, and at this age that makes a difference. More speed, more experience, and the ability to cast spells wordlessly. It's an unfair matchup and Ginny quickly loses. And then the rematch, as well as the match after that. Anticlimactic, really.

"That's three," Cho announces. "I take it we're done then?"

Ginny doesn't say anything, which is for the best I think. She looks angry enough that it'd be more swears than anything. Cho turns and walks away, but she only gets a few steps before Ginny fires off another spell at her, hitting Cho in the back, near her left shoulder.

"I never said it was over," Ginny's totally unapologetic.

Cho looks back at Ginny, one eyebrow twitching in an almost cliché display of anger. "So it's that kind of a fight? Fine."

Cho glances around a bit, apparently finding what she wants. She points her wand at a candelabra on the wall to her left and somehow draws the flame out, pulling more and more towards her, forming a ball of fire that is the size of a child's ball and growing. I'm not sure how she's doing it; whatever magic it is doesn't have any spoken words to it. We all just watch the magical flame growing, becoming several feet across.

Ginny decides not to wait, though. She fires off several stunning spells, all hitting that magical fire, but none seem to affect it at all. Finally, Cho thrusts her wand hand forward and a dozen tendrils of flame shoot out at Ginny. The girl just yells out and tries to back up, but the attack is too fast. The tendrils come at her from left, right, above and behind, leaving her no out. Just before they should hit her though, they stop, then after a second all of the magical fire vanishes completely.

I look over at Cho, who's covered in sweat and panting, looking exhausted to the point where she can barely stand. "Mon dieu, what kind of magic was that?" I ask.

"It's something from a book Dumbledore loaned me," Cho explains, walking to a chair and collapsing into it.

"What the hell, Cho?" Ron demands. "You almost killed my sister."

"I was in control."

"In control? You don't look like you can stand. How the hell were you in control of all that stuff?"

"All right, fine, I wasn't exactly in perfect total control of each and every bit of it. But I had enough control to make sure it wouldn't actually hit her."

"Bloody hell, talk about playing with fire. Your girl is mental, Harry."

"Maybe I should take Cho back to her dorm," I suggest. The girl looks like she needs the help getting there at the moment. Finally, something interesting happened at Hogwarts.

 **Author's Notes:**

Hopefully this isn't too late an update. Started a new job, so it's affecting things on this end, obviously. I think my next update will be on this same story again. Just happens to be the fic I feel like working on lately.

as always, thanks to that-fan for his help, there was some stuff I really wasn't sure about in this chapter and I really needed a second opinion for it. Also thanks to everyone who reviews, it's much appreciated.


	9. Battle Scars

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Fleur**

It's a long, slow walk back to Ravenclaw Tower. Cho is exhausted, so we're moving quite slowly.

"So what was that magic?" I ask. It's the obvious question, but why not start with obvious.

"It's from an old book Professor Dumbledore loaned me, about direct magical control of certain elemental effects. Things like control over fire, air, water, that sort of thing. It isn't something I've seen referred to in more modern magical texts. Some sort of elementalism is the closest modern term I suppose," Cho explains.

"And it always looks like that?" I've never seen or heard of magic like that, with no spoken words and large effects like that.

"I'm not quite sure. I've only gotten it to work a few times."

"You used magic you weren't sure of in a duel like that?"

"To be fair it wasn't so much a duel at that point as a catfight. And it seemed more dignified than hair pulling or using my finger nails to try and scratch her."

"I think it would have been entertaining either way."

"What, into seeing girls catfight?" Cho looks at me. "I had thought that was a more typically male guilty pleasure."

"Why should I deny myself a pleasure, guilty or otherwise? Just because I'm a girl? I'm much more open minded than that. If something is enjoyable, why not indulge?"

"I suppose."

It seems this is a bad direction for the conversation to take. All right, back on topic then."So tell me, is that magic always so draining?"

"That, that is a bit of an awkward question. From what I understand in the text, no, it normally should not be. The magic is meant for great old sages, for lack of a better term. Wizards with decades or even centuries of magical experience. All those years give a great command of and comfort with magic and knowledge of how it flows through the body, how to call it up and manipulate it. Granted that familiarity generally is with traditional spells and not in such an open and unstructured way, but still some experience does carry over."

"And all that means what, exactly?" In a way, it's lucky I didn't talk to her when I was here two years ago. My English would have been hard pressed to keep up with her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. The short version is this then. A certain degree of magical experience is needed for this, a high level in fact. Without that the magic takes a physical toll rather than a mental one, potentially a very enormous one as you saw. Supposedly if someone is well past that point where their mental capacity is sufficient for this the flow of magic can be an exhilarating feeling. Obviously, I am far from that point. The only reason it works at all is because I am in very good physical shape."

That's certainly true, Cho is in good shape, very good shape in fact. Lovely curves in all the right places, the sort of proportions most girls would kill for. No, stop it, Fleur, stop right there. She's with Harry. I can't let my mind wander in that direction; nothing good happens if I do.

 **Pansy**

"Gin, are you ok?" The idiot weasel asks his sister, who still hasn't gotten up off the ground.

"I'm fine," she answers.

"Are you sure? Because that looked bloody close."

"I said I'm fine," she snaps.

"All right, fine, I was just making sure." The idiot looks at Potter. "Your bloody girl almost killed her."

"She said she was in control, Ron." Wow, lame answer there, Potter.

"Like hell she was. She was inches from roasting poor Gin alive. And she didn't exactly look like she was in control of much when it was over; Cho could barely stand. And what was that magic anyway? I've never seen anything like it. What about you, Hermione, you know what it was?"

"I'm actually as in the dark as you are, Ron," Hermione answers.

"I've seen magic like that before," Harry offers. "Last year, at the Ministry."

"What? She's using Death Eater magic? Hell, I expected that of Parkinson, not Cho though."

Death Eater magic? What, does the idiot think Death Eaters have some communal book of Secret and Evil Spells? Maybe a secret handshake too? Actually, he's a damned moron, so maybe he really does think that.

"Look, Harry, she's your girl, I get it, but if she's doing that sort of stuff she's dangerous. What if she goes after Gin again?"

"I can take care of myself, Ron," the girl weasel tries to calm her brother down.

"But Gin, that almost went really bad."

"I said drop it, alright? Yep, pissed off now. "Look, I'm going back to the tower. Just try and relax, all right?"

Ginny makes her exit and almost immediately her idiot brother tries to go after her. Hermione stops him though.

"Maybe it would be better if I talked to her," Hermione suggests. I don't really expect him to buy it, but he does. Hermione goes after the girl and her brother stays here. I tag along with Hermione, of course.

We catch up with her back in the common room. "What do you want, Hermione?" the girl weasel demands.

"To talk."

"Duh, I didn't think you were here for a game of chess."

"So how are you? Are you all right, Ginny?"

"I'm fine; my brother already covered this." Pissy mood. Wonder if it's because she lost a fight or because people are smothering her. Actually, it's probably both.

"I know you're fine physically; it's obvious you weren't burnt. I meant how you feel."

"I feel lousy. Merlin, Hermione, you usually don't ask such stupidly obvious questions."

"I was trying to be tactful," Hermione explains. "If you prefer blunt, however… Just what in the world were you thinking, Ginny? She's two years older than you, and has developed something of a taste for combat. I tried to tell you that before you took her on. Just how did you think things would go?"

"I don't know. I was just tired of her attitude and decided to do something about it."

"Good job," I comment with a smirk.

"Oh shut up, Parkinson." Ginny tries to look intimidating and pissed off. It she hadn't just gotten her ass kicked it'd work a lot better.

"Ginny, you have to think things through, not just lose your temper and lash out," Hermione totally ignores my comment.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ginny basically ignores Hermione.

"No, I'm serious. Other than a scare and some lingering embarrassment nothing bad happened this time, but it could have. You need to learn to control your emotions, and for goodness' sake, don't shoot people in the back."

"Yeah, seriously, Hermione's right," I agree. "You Gryffindors are idiots and like fair fights and all that crap, I know, but take it from someone who doesn't give a shit about that stuff, you can't pull crap like what you did."

"What, you're going to try and tell me Slytherin don't attack people when their backs are turned?" The girl weasel challenges.

"I'm telling you you're a god damned idiot, and if you're going to hit someone in their back you need to know what you're doing, and you obviously don't."

"Gee, thanks for piling on, you're so helpful."

"Oh save it you twit. You want to get the shit kicked out of you for real next time? Fine, keep talking. If you'd like to learn something shut the hell up and listen. Your call."

The girl weasel and I just stare at each other for a bit. Normally I don't mind her but she's going out of her way to be a pissy bitch today. Makes me wish Cho had kicked her ass for real, not just embarrassed her in a duel.

Finally, it's obvious she's not going to try and mouth off again, so I decide to continue my teaching. "Ok, look, if you're going at someone's back you've got to make sure you do it right, and you made two mistakes. One, if you do it, put your target down. If you don't all you do is piss them off. Seriously, if you can't put someone down with a free shot then you shouldn't be taking them on in the first place. And two, if you're going to sucker punch someone like that, don't let them see you. It just pisses people off. You fucked up both. You're just lucky Cho's in Ravenclaw and didn't totally lose her temper, just mostly."

"I'm lucky?"

"That's right. If you did what you did to someone in Slytherin they wouldn't have stopped their spell at the last minute, they'd have roasted you."

"That spell looked like it was enough to be fatal many, many times over," Hermione points out.

"Yeah, it did," I agree. "And probably a Slytherin would have tried to turn it down enough to not be fatal, but they sure as fuck would have roasted the girl weasel here and put her ass in the hospital. And every witness would have claimed it was her own doing, some experimental spell that got out of her control or something. Anything that would make it look like her own damned fault, because to a Slytherin it was. You don't shoot someone in the back and fuck it up that bad."

"Wait, girl weasel?" Huh, guess I never used that one where she could hear before. Oops.

"Um, that's Pansy's nickname for you," Hermione explains.

"Well it's not a very nice one."

"It could be worse. Trust me, Ron's is." Hermione smiles awkwardly.

"Look, whatever, you're missing the damned point here," I point out. "If you're outgrowing that stupid fair fight crap, great. But you can't just do stupid shit and expect to get away with it."

"Fine, dually noted. We done here?" Apparently my teachings are unappreciated by the girl weasel. She seems to like asking questions she doesn't want an answer to too, since she leaves before Hermione or I can answer.

"Um, I think you may need to work on your tone for teaching a bit," Hermione points out.

Yeah, whatever. If the advice is good who gives a damn about my tone? And my advice is as good as it gets.

 **Cho**

It's normal for there to be some strain to friendships and relationships before a game of Quidditch where the people involved are on opposite teams. Loyalty to the team weighed against loyalty to a friend or significant other, and so on. It's all part of life at Hogwarts; I've accepted that. It's actually enjoyable in a way, it adds drama and tension to the game, makes it feel more significant.

That being said, I do wish today's game had a bit less of that sort of drama around it. Yes, it is against Gryffindor, and that means Harry, Ron and Ginny are on the opposite team, so some of this sort of gamesmanship is to be expected. Using the game as an excuse to hold a grudge for the duel at the DA however, is something I very much could do without.

Ron's new favorite line is one I hear every morning at breakfast whenever someone takes a piece of toast. "No, leave that one for Cho, she likes them burnt." Truly hilarious, especially after hearing it every day for ten days straight now. Persistent, if not particularly creative.

For her part Ginny has kept to dirty looks and the like. Far easier to ignore, though it does start to grate after a while. If I'd picked a fight or slighted her, taken something or insulted her, did something tangible to her I could understand, but this is almost like she's doing it simply to be contrarian. I'm more outgoing and visible, and thus more popular and she dislikes me simply to go against the grain. I can't honestly believe it's because she thinks I'm making a fool of Harry somehow based on how I choose to dress. No, to me that's a rationalization to explain away emotion from a different source.

In a pure, theoretical sense I may enjoy the puzzle and try and figure out the source of Ginny's resentment towards me, but in the real world I can't bring myself to care. It's simply tiresome, that entire family is. I've never had a problem with the Weasleys, I found the twins' antics amusing in fact, but these two are giving me no end of reasons to wish that family would simply go away or find some other crusade or at least some other person to focus their tender affections on.

It's affected my relationship with Harry as well, and not in a positive way. Some distance is natural before a Quidditch game, particularly since we're captains of the opposing teams, but this feels like more than that. I have no way to prove it, but I have the strong sense that one or both Weasleys are actively trying to sabotage my relationship, the cliché whispers in Harry's ear when I'm not around, when they're all up in Gryffindor Tower.

There's little signs, Harry's smile when he sees me seeming to be a bit forced, or the fact that Ron seems to show up as if by magic (ironic, I know) every time I would normally meet with Harry alone. It's reminiscent of the sort of vexatious games Marietta Edgecombe played last year. I'd like to hope that things will return to normal after the Quidditch game. I'd also like to hope that my parents will write me a letter telling me they'll support me no matter what I choose to do with my life. Both are equally likely futures.

That's not to say my life has been an exercise in loneliness and ostracization. Fleur seems to always be happy to see me, have a smile and a kind word, has taken to sitting next to me and walking with me between some classes even. I'd almost say she's picking up the slack for the affection I've lost from Harry, as odd as that sounds.

I'm not sure if thinking of it like that is simply a convenient turn of phrase or her actual intentions. I've never met a Veela before, but given what I know of their nature, a certain flirtiness seems natural. Still, when she was walking me back from that DA meeting I'm almost certain I caught her checking me out a few times. But whatever her intentions, there's no doubt she's taken a liking to me.

It's certainly welcome company, someone to talk to and be around when the Gryffindors are giving me the cold shoulder. Fleur is intelligent, outgoing and pleasant to talk to. I'll have to divine her intentions, and sooner rather than later, but none of that is my concern at this moment.

Right now I'm in the locker room before the first game of the season. Everyone is dressed and ready to head out in a few minutes. All that remains is the pre-game speech from our captain: my speech.

"All right everyone, listen up," I start. "It's our first game of the season, and I know we're favored rather heavily, but this game is as serious as any other. If we want to win another championship, and I know we all do, we need to start with a win here today. Also, I know quite a few of us have hopes of a Quidditch career. Recruits are here today, so we all need to make a strong first impression.

"Gryffindor is mostly a new team, so we should have a strong advantage over that. That being said, Harry is an experienced seeker on a professional broom, so unless we get and hold a strong lead, he can still win the game for Gryffindor let's keep our formations tight and press our advantage in organization. I want to see an early lead we can build on so the game is won regardless of the snitch. Good luck, and let's show them how the best Quidditch team in Hogwarts gets it done."

With that done I lead my team out onto the field. I've gone back and forth all week about just how hard I should push it this game. Ravenclaw's a far superior team to Gryffindor, there's no doubt about it, and barring Harry beating me to the snitch early (their obvious strategy), we should win be a large margin.

Over the course of last year, I became increasing aggressive with my flying, taking to flying through enemy formations to disrupt them. It's a very aggressive and effective tactic, one that against a team as inexperienced as Gryffindor could reduce their team to shambles. It's also not a traditional tactic and one that I strongly suspect some people (especially certain red heads) would call unsportsmanlike, mean spirited and unnecessarily piling on a team that has virtually no chance.

I walkout onto the pitch, look over the Gryffindor team and see the sour look Ginny has just for me and I'm decided: crush them.

We shake hands, as is tradition at the start of games and take to the air. Madame Hooch blows her whistle and the game is on. I get some distance from the play, as is normal for a seeker and stay there for only a few seconds before accelerating suddenly towards the center of the Gryffindor mass of players (I can't in good faith call it a formation; they don't appear to even be trying to establish one.)

The poor clods outright panic, scattering in every direction. Our team takes advantage and Ron (the Gryffindor keeper) is facing three of ours with no Gryffindor defenders to help him. The result is obvious: the first goal of the game.

I spend the next several minutes alternating between looking for the snitch in the usual seeker fashion and flying through the Gryffindor formations. Our team is doing quite well, even without my disruptions they're creating a lot of odd man chances that lead to good scoring opportunities. Ron doesn't seem to be playing badly from what I can see, but even the best keeper can't guard against 2 or 3 on 1 situations very well.

After one of my passes through the enemy formation, when I've moved to a farther out distance to look for the snitch, Harry flies up alongside me.

"Not taking it easy on us at all?" he asks.

"Did you expect that we would?"

"Not really."

"It's no different from any other game we've played; we play our best and in the end one of us wins. Besides, we aren't running up the score. We're establishing a solid early lead to make sure we can't lose the game no matter what happens with the snitch. This isn't simply an exhibition match, after all; it has implications for the championship at the end of the year, as well as professional recruitment."

"I see," is Harry's reply before flying off.

He's obviously not happy with my answer. Still, I don't see how he has cause to be upset. He can't really have thought I'd let him win? The odds of this match were clear; was I supposed to throw it for my boyfriend? Simply ignore that a loss may cost up the cup, that it will look bad for anyone aiming to play professionally, maybe even cost them their future? What, to spare feelings? As some sort of reconciliatory gesture to the Weasley family?

I'm sorry, but if that's what Harry is looking for he came to the wrong girl. I wouldn't want someone to simply give me a victory like that; if I can't earn it I shouldn't get it, and I won't simply throw a game for someone else.

Still, winning and making our team and individual members look good does not necessitate running up the score. The snitch being captured ends the game and gives the capturing team 150 points, so when we are up by 180 points we start dialing our offense back. Our offense stops pushing so hard, we substitute in some of our newer players to get them game time, I stop flying into the Gryffindor formations to disrupt them and play a much more traditional, much more passive seeker play style. Not to say we give up, rather than we seek to maintain our lead.

Harry also changes tactics, giving up on playing seeker entirely (after all, why worry about the hundred fifty points when it won't get you anything that matters) and moves to join the rest of his team. There he acts as a sort of coordinator or director for his offense and defense, calling out plays, taking some passes and in general trying to use the game as a team building and teaching exercise.

That's how the game goes, with our team maintaining our lead and giving newer players experience and Harry coaching his team to try and make some sort of benefit out of the inevitable loss. Eventually I find the snitch and end the game. It's hardly the thrilling chase I expected, the dramatic finish that will be memorable for the professional scouts in the stands, but a win is a win. I'll simply trust my tactics were good enough, that, when combined with the upcoming games, it will be enough.

 **Hermione**

My last letter to the Minister nicely suggested that his election could greatly benefit from the endorsement and support of heroes, that in a time like this people need heroes, look up to them and are likely to support people those heroes support. I again expressed how important the matter of Parkinson Manor is to me, and how I feel it is a moral imperative where if the laws conflict, the law should be made to give way. Finally, I suggested that should he disagree, should he not do what is right that hero support could look elsewhere for a home.

I feel the letter was well written, the right amount of subtlety and openness in what I want and completely reasonable. It was ignored.

Before this I got the Magic World's equivalent of a form letter, this time I got only silence. Fine, apparently the Minister either thinks I'll give up, cannot deliver what I promise, our support is not relevant or simply think I'm a child he can ignore. I tried very hard to not be put in this position, but apparently raw threats are all that's left to me. I suppose I'll have to write a letter worthy of Pansy then.

 _I take it from your lack of response to my last letter that you have decided to take no action on the matter of Parkinson Manor. I had previously suggested what would take place if you chose this course of action, let me now state it openly. I, Pansy Parkinson, Ronal Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Ginerva Weasley, Cho Chang and Harry Potter will actively campaign for your political defeat._

 _You will see interviews and editorials from us on a daily basis, your opponents will enjoy photo opportunities with us and our full and open support, and we will lay the blame for all the ills plaguing the wizarding world, including the return of Voldermort himself at your feet._

 _I would hope you are well aware from last year how we are fully capable of getting our voice out to the media even in the face of outright censorship from the Ministry, so do not think that this is an idle threat or that we are somehow unable to carry this out._

 _Now, should you wish to avoid this, you still have one chance. If in the next week I see legitimate action on the matter of Parkinson Manor and Pansy Parkinson's rights to it and her proper title, we will withhold action. If your actions should yield positive results you may yet see our support, but my patience on this matter is at an end. In the next week either I will read about your actions in the_ Daily Prophet _or you will read about ours. The choice is yours, Minister._

There, that should do the job. I do hate having to resort to this, but I'm out of options. I just can't stand to see Pansy living as a charity case all her life. I know I've pushed her to plan for a career, and I think it's good advice she should follow, but at the same time, it's hard to see Pansy as an office drone (or whatever the wizarding equivalent of one is.)

Yes, if she had to (and I pushed her hard enough) she'd get some job, but I know she would hate it, and seeing her like that is not something I want for us. A miserable life can eat at you, and seeing someone I love like that…. No, I can't let that happen. As bad as what I'm doing is, I still see it as by far the lesser of two evils.

Of course it wouldn't be an exchange of correspondence with the Minister without Ginny, and right on cue she's sitting down next to me. Honestly, how does the girl know? Are there psychic wizards? It makes me wonder.

"Hmm, another letter? Can I see?" Apparently the question is rhetorical, because Ginny snatches the letter out of my hand and starts reading.

She takes a minute to read it, and the read it again before looking up at me. "Merlin, Hermione, you're really going to send this?"

"Oh, yes, um, about that. I am sorry to cite you in it, act as if I'm speaking for you and the others. I don't plan to actually put words in your mouth for any newspaper articles or anything, I simply felt the added credibility from all of our names would add weight," I explain.

"That's not the bloody point," Ginny almost yells.

"Oh. So it's, um, the rest."

"Yes, the rest. The whole big thing where you're threatening. Threatening the Minister of Magic."

"Interim Minister," I correct.

"That's not the point and you know it."

"All right, fine, it isn't. But what other option do I have?"

"What about live with things the way they are? Give up on this and just face reality like a normal person."

"Because that's not good enough, Ginny. Because I'm not a normal person. I'm not sure if any of us are. I know Harry wants to be, but I don't think I am, I know Pansy isn't, neither is Cho. And certainly no one will ever accuse Luna of being normal. Maybe you and Ron are, I don't know. And because living with things the way they are isn't something I can live with."

"Why not? Just what the hell is so wrong with how things are? So Pansy isn't rich with a big mansion and title and all that, so what?" Ginny demands.

"You might be able to live like that, and I could, but she can't. Ginny, she lost everything. Think about that, what if you lost your home, your family, your friends, all of it? Could you really live like that? And more to the point, I can't live with that. Seeing the person I love unhappy every day? No, I simply refuse."

"Basically declaring war on the Minister of Magic is not alternative, I don't care how interim he is.".

"Ginny, listen, please," I keep my tone slow and patient. "I love Pansy, and she loves me. I know that letter is extreme, but I have to do it. The thought of living our lives together and seeing her miserable when I could do something to prevent it…. I have to try, even if it is unreasonable."

"Ok, I get it means a lot to you, and you're going to send that letter, but I still think it's a bad idea."

"Then I suppose both of us are picking fights with opponents out of our league lately."

"Yeah, not sure if you noticed, but Cho and the Minister aren't exactly the same here."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. I am curious if you still are fighting with her or feuding or whatever it is that was going on though."

"I don't know." Ginny shrugs a bit. "I mean yeah, I still don't really like her, how she acts and dresses and all, and I think she's all wrong for Harry, but it doesn't seem like I'm exactly doing much about it at the moment. Kind of obvious a magical fight isn't going to go my way, neither did Quidditch, so I don't know. And I'm not going to go take her on in a catfight, no matter how much your girlfriend wants to see it. So it doesn't really matter if I like her or not, does it? There's not much I can do about it."

"The Quidditch match wasn't the disaster some people predicted," I point out.

"Yeah, once they got a big enough lead so they couldn't lose they started taking it easy on us, switching out people for their second stringers and all," Ginny agrees. "Then Harry started basically just coaching and helping out our regular lines, it all wound up some weird practice skirmish more than a game. We still lost though, even if it wasn't a big blowout like it could have been."

"That sounds rather decent of her."

"Look, Hermione you want us to get along, I get it. But I'm just not looking to be all happy friends with her and stuff."

"All right. But the two of you used to get along, I really do wish you would again."

"Yeah, and you didn't used to threaten the head of the country. Times change I guess."

 **Author's Notes:**

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope everyone's enjoying the start of the holidays, spending time with family if they can and appreciating what we have.

Thanks to that-fan for his help with editing. And of course thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Reviews are great, I really appreciate all of them that I get.


	10. Who is Dating Who?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Harry**

Our second Quidditch game is very soon, against Slytherin. Ron and I have been working on a plan, and it's starting to come together. Ok, it's slow to do it, but we're better than at the start of the season. We're going over the results of our practices in the common room now.

"I think we've got a good chance," Ron announces. "I snuck out to the pitch to watch Slytherin practice, and let me tell you, they're a bloody mess."

"Oh?" I ask.

"Yeah, no team work at all; they're all ball hogs, running into each other and stuff. I'm not sure if they even have a captain, they all just start yelling and cursing at each other all the time, no one in charge."

"So you figure we can take them?"

"Yeah, I like our chances."

"Guess losing to Ravenclaw wasn't so terrible after all," I comment.

"Yeah, well it still wasn't fun."

"It could have been a lot worse. Cho didn't have her team run up the score, kept it friendly so I could help coach and stuff during the game."

"Oh yeah, she's all heart."

"So you're still mad eh."

"Of course I'm still mad," Ron yells at me. "She almost killed my sister."

"She says she was in control."

"Oh bollocks. Seriously, Harry, there's just no way that was true. You really are going to look me in the eye and tell me you believe she was 100% in control of every bit of that flame, all the tentacles or whatever nonsense she made?"

"She said she had overall control of the fire. Enough to not have it hit Ginny."

"Overall control? Yeah, that'd have been a lot of comfort if my sister was burnt to death."

"Oh come on, you're being ridiculous, Ron."

"Right, big tentacles of magic flame don't burn you to death; they just give you a nice sun tan," Ron mocks.

"A lot of magic we use is dangerous."

"Dangerous stuff we cast at targets on the wall, not people. And don't even try and tell me she was in control, I saw her. That girl was about a second from collapsing, and Merlin knows what would have happened then. If she says she was in control then she's lying to you, mate."

"Now you think Cho is lying to me?" I ask.

"I don't know, maybe she believes it. Then she's lying to herself. Point is, the girl's a liar."

"Come on, give me a break already, Ron."

"No; this isn't some prank or a mean trick, not stuff like Malfoy or Parkinson do. This could have killed someone."

"Malfoy tried to kill Hermione and Parkinson. Twice for Hermione, in fact."

"Yeah, fine, ok, so like what he did before this year and the crap Parkinson pulls."

"Look, what do you want from me here?" I demand.

"Dump her. I get she's pretty and a Quidditch player and stuff, but she's dangerous. You can find someone else, trust me. I know it's tough and all, but it's just not worth it."

"Not worth it?"

"Harry, she's going to hurt someone. She's more and more into fighting and combat and stuff. You can't tell me you haven't seen it."

"Ron, she didn't start that fight. Ginny did."

"Yeah, fine, Gin shouldn't have done what she did, but she wasn't the one that made it dangerous."

"You're serious? You want me to dump her? What, next time I see her instead of asking her to the Yule Ball I dump her?"

"Bloody hell, tell me you don't plan to go with her to that?" Ron's close to yelling again.

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"So life just goes on like nothing happened? She's stupidly irresponsible, almost torches my sister and nothing happens? Are you serious?"

"What, I should not ask her, like some sort of punishment or something?"

"I think you should get away from the girl; she's mental. But if you won't do it then at least something to make sure that Cho knows what she did wasn't ok would be nice."

"Ron, I'm her boyfriend, not her father. Teaching her what's ok and what's not isn't my job."

"Obviously her father did a right poor job of it," Ron snaps.

"Fine, I'll think about it. I promise. Can we focus on the game plan now please?"

Ron isn't thrilled to not get his way, but he agrees. The game's important, after all. And the planning's worth it; by the time the game comes around our team's in pretty good shape. We aren't going to make a serious run at the cup or anything, but our team's learned to fly together, gotten a sense of who should be where and how to play as a team.

Slytherin, on the other hand, is every bit as bad as Ron said they'd be. Thuggish, amateur fliers, and no one in charge, they're a mess. The real Slytherin team gets away with a lot of fouls because they know how to hide it; this team though, they get called on every foul, and the penalty shots really are adding up. No one's going to accuse us of being the top team this year, don't get me wrong, but we're good enough to win this game at least.

 **Cho**

Harry asked me to the Yule Ball. Technically. All right, he did ask me, but it was in such a weak way, basically "Oh by the way, you want to go to the ball, Cho?" And on the day before the Yule Ball too. For most girls, the timing would be a problem. Preparing for this sort of thing takes time after all, finding a dress, having it altered and so on. Harry and I have been together for long enough that I expected he'd ask so I was ready for the ball in advance. It's more the manner in which Harry asked me that irks.

It felt almost like an afterthought, something left until the last minute or that he was unsure of. Thinking about it, it felt like that because that's almost certainly exactly what it was: something he was unsure of. It sounds like a conspiracy theory, or something a cliché crazy girlfriend would say. Oh, my boyfriend doesn't love me, he neglects me, he spent six minutes and thirteen seconds yesterday without me. I wish it was just hysterics like that.

Before the Gryffindor - Ravenclaw Quidditch game it was obvious that Ron was holding a grudge over the altercation his sister and I had at the DA meeting. I had hoped that after the game that animosity may find an end. What a foolish, naive girl I was.

The grudge or anti-Cho agenda or whatever one wishes to call it may be less overt, but it's absolutely still present. What's more, Harry's choice of how to invite me to the Yule Ball shows it's working. You'd think the fact that Ginny started that fight, shot me in the back to start it might be a factor, what with Gryffindor's propensity for honor and fair play, but apparently Gryffindor has a very selective memory when it involves one of their own.

Still, a date is a date and I make sure to look my best for it. A black dress, very aggressive neck line, high hem line, I think one of the Muggle girls in my house called it a little black dress. A term that has some sort of unique meaning for Muggles apparently. I picked it because I looked good in it, tight in all the right places, large amounts of my legs and cleavage shown off, it completely fits with my dress to impress mantra I've used this year.

Based on the look on Harry's face when I come down the stairs into the Entry Hall, this outfit works exactly how I hoped it would.

"Cho, you look great," he greets me.

"Thank you. You look very good as well." It's true, Harry looks extremely handsome in his dress robes. Ron, who's with Harry looks a bit less so. But then, given his history with dress robes, that's par for the course for him at these sorts of things. "So we're just waiting for Ron's date then?"

"Um no, I'm here alone actually."

I'm not entirely sure what to say to that. A part of me is worried whatever I come up with will be cynical, snarky and something that will be completely unhelpful. I'm fairly certain I'm expected to say something, however. I'm very glad that instead Pansy and Hermione show up.

It's no surprise the two are here together; they're one of the highest profile couples in the castle (Harry and I are the other.) Last year Hermione had to resort to a grand scheme to get to spend the evening with Pansy. Tonight they get to have their date without any sort of machinations or pretense.

Within a few minutes of the Ball starting I find myself jealous of Pansy and Hermione. The two look to be having a dream date, dancing and smiling. I wish I could claim the same. Harry and I have only shared two dances, and both were short and awkward. It seems that while Harry's body may be with me, his heart is at best divided. The looks from Ron Weasley when we get back to the table are not even the tiniest bit subtle.

He said he was here alone, but I rather think that is a lie; Ron Weasley is here as Harry's date every bit as much as I am. Not to claim that Harry is going out with Ron or involved romantically or anything of the sort, but Harry's loyalties are clearly divided, and he's either unwilling or unable to make a choice. What am I saying, it's Harry; he's trying to please everyone and find some magical happy ending despite the odds and obvious insurmountable challenges.

I'm very conflicted about that. Part of me admires this sort of thing in Harry, the fact he can completely ignore odds like this. Not only ignore them in his beliefs and actions, but sometimes get results that defy all odds. On the other hand, right at this moment that trait of trying to please everyone and get a perfect outcome is infuriating beyond belief. Yes, Ron Weasley is Harry's friend, probably his best friend, and friends spend time together and whatnot, but this is the Yule Ball, one of only two balls per year (the other is the Last Hurrah at the end of the year) and a ball is an occasion that calls for a girlfriend, not a best friend. There are boundaries here, and Ron obviously knows that and is violating them and Harry is letting him.

More and more, during the awkward silences at the table, the dirty looks and the wasted minutes that threaten to stretch into hours I wonder if maybe I wouldn't enjoy fighting with another Weasley. My martial arts skills aren't perfect, but they've come along, and in a dress with so high a hem line I could move just fine. And even if I lost, surely it would be better than this. It would be direct, to the point and quick, everything this evening is not.

"This looks like an unhappy scene," Fleur announces herself as she walks over. She's in a small blue dress, similar in shade to the fetishized version of her schoolgirl uniform she usually wears. Though now that I think of it, everything she wears can be described as small, both in tightness and in terms of coverage. "It's a party, you should be smiling, no?"

"I know, we're having fun, it's just…." Harry starts.

"Ron doesn't have a date so Harry is splitting his time between him and I," I finish for Harry.

"Ah, pity that. It's hard when a friend needs you like that. If it would help I can take Cho off your hands," Fleur offers.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"What are you talking about?" Harry wants to know.

"You can't do two things at once. So be with Ron and I'll take care of Cho. I'm here alone, so I can dance with her. That way no one is left alone and unhappy. Everyone wins, no?"

"Um, I'm not exactly sure about that," Harry tries to answer.

"No, it's fine, really." I'm sure it's the wrong answer, that it's petty and small and whatnot, but I can't bring myself to care. This night has been miserable and I'm taking the first at least somewhat socially acceptable exit.

So I quickly leave Ron and Harry's table to dance with Fleur, who as it turns out is quite capable at it. Dancing with a girl is a rather different experience than with a boy, particularly given how Fleur seems to have a particular fondness for keeping herself close to me, pressed up against me in fact.

Fleur has no shortage of curves, which she seems to delight in having my hands find. The sensation of my chest pressing against and rubbing against Fleur's is a particularly odd one; I'm not quite sure how to describe it. She seems to find it a sort of game, one she delights in. I don't know that I'd go so far as to say my opinion of this makeshift game is one of delight, but it somehow isn't entirely unpleasant either.

"So was Ron there to try and break you and Harry up or was that an unhappy coincidence?" Fleur asks.

'I'm not sure. The talk around the castle is that he isn't the best with girls. Though he hasn't let that incident at the DA go either," I answer. "Either way, I appreciate this, saving me, as it were."

"Maybe I didn't save you? Maybe I just wanted to dance with the prettiest girl in Hogwarts?"

When Fleur helped me back to Ravenclaw Tower after the fight at the DA I thought she might have been checking me out, so to speak. It seems I was correct, given her flirting now. It could be she's genuinely interested in me, but to try and pick me up as it were, right in front of Harry on a date? That seems unlikely in the extreme. No, this must be a game of some sort to Fleur. Very well, I enjoy games, I can play too. After all, the original plans for the evening are a write off, so if everything is off script why not make it an interesting script?

"So is this normal for you, picking up girls who already have dates to a Ball, or am I somehow special?" I ask, smiling at Fleur.

"On no, you are most definitely special." Fleur returns my smile.

"Ah, so not just pity on a girl trapped in a horrible date?"

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose." Pity is hardly a thing to enjoy receiving, but then I'm in a poor position to complain. All right, technically my position is pressed up against a Veela, but still.

But then, why should I complain? The tender affections of the Weasley family have gotten truly tiresome, so why should I feel bad about a reprieve? Ron Weasley obviously intended to ruin this night, weaseled his way into it like some second date for Harry, so why should I feel bad about this?

On some level there's a part of me that hopes Harry feels a little bit bad about this night too. Not that I want to be vindictive or have him emotionally crushed, but to feel something, to think that maybe what he did is not all right? That somehow his current plan of trying to please everyone, to respect the opinion of Ron and honor his commitment to the Weasley family as well as maintaining a relationship with me is not working? That someone has to be told no? It's a word Harry hates using, but he has to learn. Sometimes life is a zero-sum game, a lesson Harry seems loathed to grasp.

At this point I'm not sure I even care if it's me he tells no, that his first loyalty is not to me, that I will never come first with him. It's not what someone wants to hear in a relationship, but at this point I find it preferable to this purgatory.

"Speechless, are we?" Fleur interrupts my internal monologue.

"Oh, sorry, just a bit lost in my thoughts. It happens to me sometimes. Truth be told, probably more than sometimes; with some regularity in fact."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular; relationship matters."

"Care to talk about it?" Fleur asks.

The question actually gives me pause. I don't have anyone to normally discuss relationship issues with, at least in terms of friends I discuss such things with. Of course the most obvious suspect to discuss one's relationship is the person you are in said relationship with. That, however is a problem for Harry and I. We don't communicate well, he's reluctant to talk about that sort of thing, and I've been no better.

"You're doing it again," Fleur interrupts my internal monologue.

"Sorry. I tend to have long internal monologues. It saves people from having to listen if I externalize them."

"Why don't people want to listen to them?"

"You really want to hear me ramble on about my interpersonal issues?"

"If it's what you want to speak about, then why not?"

"Why? What's so interesting about my issues?" Is she just curious about gossip? Protective of Harry? Some sort of interest in me?

"No particular interest. They matter to you though, no? And the fact you're obsessing over them at a dance means you have no one else to talk to about them."

"What is there to say?" I answer Fleur's question with one of my own. "You've been here watching us; you know what's going on. Ginny Weasley obviously has a problem with me this year, and since that fight her brother does as well. Not that my relationship with Harry needed their help."

"Needed their help? What do you mean?"

"It's just that…" I pause a bit uncharacteristically searching for words. "Harry's and my relationship has been somewhat awkward, I suppose you could call it. We don't communicate so well, or rather, enough I suppose you could say. Perhaps both are accurate. We don't speak in any real way often. Oh, we talk, of course, you've seen it, but it's superficial. For whatever reason, we just don't seem to know how to actually talk."

"So what, your dates are nothing but small talk?"

"In essence. There's a number of topics that are awkward for us to discuss, you see. My parents, his future career, to name only two. So with several large topics off the table, that's a problem. Also, Harry, particularly at first, found talking to me awkward. I was his first girlfriend and there was a time when he found it difficult to talk to me, for fear of saying the wrong thing. And I'm not blameless either, I've seen the problem and done nothing about it."

"You don't want to fix it? That seems like a bad way for a girlfriend to be, no?"

"Harsh, but not untrue. It is a bad way to be. The worst part is, I'm not sure why I haven't done something. I suppose talk to Harry more? But I don't have the first idea what to talk to him about."

"You make it sound like talking to your boyfriend is a job, not something you enjoy. That's not good for a relationship," Fleur points out.

Fleur's right, of course. It's painfully obvious when I lay it out like I did. But then, could I even talk to Harry if I wanted to? He seems to always have his bodyguard/boyfriend Ron Weasley with him, which makes meaningful conversation all but impossible.

No, that's a lie; I could find a way if I really wanted to. I just for whatever reason don't want to deal with the issue. I haven't before, and I don't now; I let the matter drop and Fleur thankfully takes the hint and we spend the rest of the night blissfully relationship problem free.

Fleur and I never make it back to Harry and Ron's table. Even at the end of the Ball rather than looking for them Fleur walks me up to Ravenclaw Tower.

"Thank you for a pleasant evening," I say to Fleur.

"Yes, it was lovely," she agrees. I expect to part ways then and there, I go into the dormitory and Fleur back to her apartment, but that isn't what happens. Instead Fleur wraps her arms around me, pulling me close and kisses me. The kiss is pure passion, nothing remotely platonic about it. What's more, it's a very good kiss. But then, this is Fleur Delacour, it would be somehow fundamentally wrong if she weren't a wonderful kisser.

 **Hermione**

I'm searching the castle. It's not what I want to be doing on the last day here at the school before winter break, but circumstances have left me no choice. I hear the sound of high heels on the stone floor coming from behind me. There's only three people in the castle who regularly wear them, two to fit their exhibitionist images (both of whom I am looking for), and the third is my girlfriend, who wears them to fit with her look that often strays closer to what a Muggle business executive would wear than a schoolgirl.

"Where you off to?" Pansy asks me. All right, not one of the girls I'm looking for.

"Is it that hard to guess? I'm looking for Fleur and Cho."

"Oh, you want to lecture them about last night eh?"

Pansy is right, this is about the Yule Ball last night. Or rather, what happened afterwards. Fleur and Cho left the ball together and then apparently had a make out session just outside Ravenclaw Tower, which of course people saw and within a few hours was all anyone in the castle could talk about.

"I'm not sure I'd call it a lecture, but I think it's fair to ask them just what they were thinking," I answer my girlfriend.

"Oh yeah, because Fleur's going to just sit and let you bitch at her after the way you've treated her all year." I haven't made any secret of my dislike for Fleur's mission to spy on us (or keep us safe as she puts it, though it's all mere semantics to me.)

"So what, I just ignore Fleur and what she's done to Harry?"

"That or just give the girl what she wants. She's asked about how we got together, right? So tell her." Pansy isn't deterred by my skeptical look. "What's she going to do, go to the old man and tell him? So what? He already knows the bad part, the crap with the Imperius curse, so why the hell not?"

"I suppose, but it's just, it's personal, and having her here asking questions is an invasion of that. You understand, don't you?"

"I get it, yeah, but it's not like she's a stranger; she's hung around us for half a year now. So why not give her the benefit of the doubt and treat her like a friend? Besides, you obviously want to get in the middle of all that relationship crap, you're stalking the halls looking for Fleur and Cho, so throw Fleur a bone and indulge your meddling fantasies."

I can always count on Pansy to encourage me to meddle. Usually it's just for amusement. Of course this time it's for a good reason, so I may have no choice but to listen to the sexy little devil on my shoulder. After all, she is right, I am determined to get involved in this. I don't particularly like opening up to people like Pansy suggests, especially to lead with it, but it seems to be the price of admission. I just don't see Fleur talking to me about this any other way.

I'm not sure what Fleur and Cho are doing or thinking, but it can blow up twenty different ways that are all bad. I don't know how Harry will take it for one, for another Ron and possibly Ginny will no doubt use this to try and drive a wedge between Harry and Cho, and the last thing I want is some nonsense where my friends are in two camps and everyone has to pick sides.

It takes a little while, but eventually Pansy and I do find one of the girls we're looking for. We come across Fleur walking in a corridor. "Oh, Fleur, good, I was hoping to run into you," I get her attention.

Fleur looks at me, making only a halfhearted effort to hide the annoyance on her face. I'm sure she knows why I'm here and no doubt expects an interrogation or lecture. Of course she's right. Pansy is too; it's obvious this won't go well unless I change how Fleur and I deal with each other. It's not what I was hoping to do, but I suck it up and do it; I tell Fleur about how Pansy and I got together, the Imperius curse, the early awkward parts of our relationship and how we fell in love.

Fleur listens to it all, being patient and quiet until I finish. "Thank you for telling me that. So I take it you want to know about last night then?" Good, that worked.

"Yes. I know that Ron had no date for the ball and so was with Harry and Cho, and he has made it clear he is no fan of hers, but how do things go from there to what happened outside Ravenclaw Tower?"

"I saw Cho there and it wasn't hard to guess what the situation was, so I asked her to dance. That whole thing was ridiculous; no girl should be trapped in something like that. At first I was only going to stay with her for one song, but we had fun, I teased her with some flirting, she played along and we had a good time. One song became the entire evening, and before we knew it the ball was over, so being the polite girl I am, I walked Cho home. We stopped at the entrance to her dormitory, said goodbye and then… I don't know.

"You don't know?"

"Well obviously we kissed, I know that. I didn't plan to do it or anything like that. Somehow it just happened. Instinct I suppose? An urge I acted on? Whatever it was, it was a mistake."

"A mistake? Not exactly what most people would call a make out session with Cho," Pansy points out.

"You're not helping, dear," I reply.

"Yes, it was a mistake," Fleur continues. "However good the kiss was, I should never have done that. She is with Harry, and he's my friend, doing that was a betrayal. I wasn't thinking and now I don't know what to do. Friends don't do that to friends. Harry deserves better than that."

"Maybe you shouldn't have meddled in the first place."

"Not sure you're the one to pull a line like that off," Pansy smirks at me.

"This isn't the same thing at all," I insist.

"How is it not? Because it's Potter instead of Draco? So what?"

"Malfoy is a prat who didn't deserve you. Harry isn't like that; he's just trying to do what he can to make everyone happy, to not have to choose between people and decide which friends he keeps."

"And he's screwing people in the process. You think Cho's happy? The idiot weasel isn't either, he's just an asshole lately. Potter needs to grow a pair, not do this find a way for everyone to win shit."

"That's not who Harry is. He's an optimist who thinks he can find a way to do that, to make it so no one gets hurt."

"That's crap and you know it. You figured out a long time ago the world doesn't have a happy ending for everyone in it, Hermione."

"Maybe so," I agree. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop Harry from trying, or hoping that somehow it will work out."

"It won't; it already hasn't. If Potters' crap was working Fleur wouldn't have picked Cho up so easily and we wouldn't be here."

"I did not 'pick Cho up' as you say," Fleur insists. "All I did was spend a pleasant evening with her."

"A pleasant evening that ended in a public make out session, a kiss that rivals what I did with Hermione in the Great Hall for fame and infamy," Pansy taunts.

"And I regret that. Cho is lovely but she's Harry's and I should have respected that. I should have known where things could wind up and not even started down that path."

"If you say so. I still say you shouldn't get pissed about people walking through a door you left open though."

I'm not sure if having Pansy here is helpful or not. I probably wonder that because her argument has a certain logic to it I wish it didn't. At least Fleur doesn't plan to make any sort of trouble concerning Cho though. I just hope the Weasley family is willing to let this go as well.

 **Author's Notes:**

Work is pretty nuts lately, schedule really isn't leaving me much free time at all, and what free time I have seems to get eaten by fixing things around the house. So sorry if updates are slow, it's become unavoidable.

thanks to that-fan for his help with editing and making a sort of boring scene much less so (I won't say which, hopefully they all are good now.) Also thanks to everyone who reviews. I appreciate it.


	11. Dreams Begin to Move

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Ron**

It's the last day of Christmas break, and I'm at this little village called Chalmer's Crossing. There's not a ton here, some houses, a few shops, nothing really special. The shops are why I'm here doing some last shopping before heading back to Hogwarts. The selection here isn't great, but the prices are. Got to lure people in somehow, right? Can't compete with Diagon Alley for size and all that, so give people a deal. It's not crowded like Diagon Alley, but there's still people around, a few dozen walking around the street and a bunch more in the various stores.

I'm not really shopping for a lot, just a few little things for school. Odds and ends I think my mum would call them. I can't afford anything big anyway. But hey, just have to appreciate what do have, right?

I haven't been here too long and I'm almost done. After all, I'm a guy, guys shop fast, right? I know when I've been out shopping with Gin and my mum those two take forever. I mean, hours and hours, just looking at stuff. Just looking, not even buying, they don't even have money to buy but still they can take hours. I just don't get it. Me? I know what I'm after, I come in, get it and that's it, I'm done. It makes sense, right?

I'm walking down the street on my way to the last store I need to get stuff from, when three people Apparate in, dressed in black robes with white masks. "Death to mud bloods and enemies of the dark lord," one yells.

Oh bloody hell, Death Eaters. I run for cover, same as everyone else here. The Death Eaters start flinging spells and everyone's just panicking. I duck behind a bench, one of those things that people put here to pretty up the place and stuff.

Ok, this is bad. I mean, yeah, Death Eaters, no doubt that's bad. But it's especially bad for me. I mean, I'm not some nobody anymore. I helped beat you-know-who at the end of last year. I was in the paper, I'm famous now. The Death Eaters may know me, may go out of their way to go after me if they recognize me? What are they going to do? Kill me? Try and capture me? Then what, torture me and stuff? Let someone like Lucius Malfoy do whatever they want? Hold me for hostage so Harry has to trade himself for me or something?

No way in hell I can let that happen. I need to come up with something here, a plan. Or at least something that gets me out of here. I look around, hoping something comes to me, but I'm not seeing anything good. People are running for their lives all over the place. The three death Eaters have split up, one going to each end of the little town and the third is just standing in the middle of the street right in the center of the place. They're all flinging spells, some at random, some right at people.

Their plan is working too; it's panic and chaos. It's not a big place and not exactly crowded like Diagon Alley is, but there's enough people to be running into each other and even over the people who are down. I can't tell if they're stunned or dead or what. If they aren't dead I can't imagine having people walk on top of them is helping their condition.

Ok, things are bad, real bad. The smart play is to hide. I'm ducked down behind a bench, I've got some cover so random spells won't hit me, so it's not a terrible place. Not like it's the best place in the town either, so maybe I should look around for an opening to run somewhere, into a store or out of town or something.

It's not like I need to stay hidden for long; Aurors will be here soon. They must know this is going on, I mean, someone reports death Eater attacks, right? It can't be more than a few minutes until they get here. And it's only three Death Eaters, a squad of Aurors should be able to take them easy. That or make them run. Yeah, that's probably what will happen, as soon as the Death eaters see Aurors they'll Apparate out.

So no doubt that hiding is the smart play, but then I didn't get put into Gryffindor because of smarts. Besides, all that practice with the DA were for something just like this. If I didn't do something I wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor or a DA member, would I?. Yeah, they're Death Eaters, but there's only three of them. That and two are kind of far away, at each end of this little town, so really it's just one near me. Just one Death Eater who's terrorizing people and probably isn't expecting anyone to fight back.

I watch the Death Eater near me. He's yelling and firing off spells. By now everyone knows the death Eaters are here, so manly he's just trying to add to the panic and chaos and stuff, not even seeming to care what direction he shoots magic in. I watch and wait, waiting for him to turn away. When he does, I take out my wand and fire off a stunner.

The Death Eater never sees it coming and my spell hits him right in the middle of his back. He goes down as soon as the stunner hits. I check on the other two Death Eaters; they're still at the far ends of town, terrorizing away, completely unaware their friend is down. I guess in all the screaming and chaos they didn't hear my spell. Brilliant.

I run into the street, checking on the Death Eater I downed. He's not moving, but I have to be sure; I give him a little kick to make sure he's really out. He doesn't react at all, so yeah, he's down for real. That's good; what's not good is that my plan sort of covered dealing with one Death Eater and that's it. Now I'm in the middle of the street, totally exposed with two Death Eaters around and no real idea how to deal with them.

I could pick one of the remaining two and try to fight them, but that can go bad They're both pretty far away, and I don't know for sure if I'll be able to actually hit them with spells. Yeah, firing off a spell and missing would be bad. Worse be would be if both notice me, then I'm caught in a crossfire. Ok, fighting's out. So if I can't fight them, what do I do? I guess I could go hide, but I've got a stunned Death Eater here, I don't want him to recover and get away or cause trouble again.

I look back and forth between the two active Death Eaters trying to come up with a plan, but I never manage to invent one. Instead several people Apparate in. Not Death Eaters this time; Ministry Aurors instead, a half dozen of them. The two Death Eaters don't even try to make a fight of it, they just vanish away with Apparation.

The Aurors look around and find the stunned Death Eater I'm standing over real fast. "You did this?" one of them asks me.

"Yeah, I stunned him," I answer.

"Nice work, kid."

The Aurors secure the Death Eater (the take his wand and use a spell to tie him up.) Finally they reach down and pull off the white mask he's wearing and I get to see just who I captured.

 **Cho**

It only took me a few minutes back in the castle after Christmas break to hear the gossip. It's about me, so why shouldn't I? All sorts of people asking me if it's true, how was it, what drove me to it and a thousand other variations. All centering around the now widely accepted "fact" that I'm bisexual, thanks to what was obviously an unexpectedly public kiss between Fleur and I.

No one has bothered to ask me about my sexual orientation, of course; it makes a better story if I actually am bisexual. Scandalous because I'm already in a relationship, and more so because of my "cheating" being Sapphic in nature.

In point of fact, I've never considered a relationship, romantic or sexual with another girl. I've always thought of myself as heterosexual. When Fleur seemed to be flirting with me I assumed it was a game; after all, I came to the Ball with a date, how could she actually be genuine in her advances towards me? And yes, I played along. In retrospect Fleur probably saw this as her advances being returned so felt the kiss was appropriate.

The kiss was quite exceptional as well, possibly the best I've ever had. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that. Fleur's game of having my hands find her various curves while we danced was not an entirely unpleasant experience either. So maybe there is some truth to the rumors? Maybe I'm not as entirely heterosexual as I had always thought? I don't know. What's more, I don't know how to figure it out.

Just how does one determine a thing like that? Attempt a relationship with another girl and see what comes of it? A so called one night stand to test physical attraction? I suppose that has a reasonable chance of success. The obvious problem being, I'm already in a relationship, strained as it is, and that sort of violation of trust would destroy it.

But even if the answer was yes and I was on some level bisexual, would it actually matter? I imagine it would affect my life here at Hogwarts in any meaningful way. My issues with Harry won't go away or heal if I have an interest in girls, and Ron Weasley won't become less of an irritant if I find females attractive. So perhaps it's nothing more than an academic point, a curiosity to ponder when I have free time.

Unfortunately the effects of that kiss are not a mere curiosity, they are real and need to be dealt with. That means talking with Fleur and facing Harry (and whatever nonsense Ron has filled his head with over Christmas break.) Both need addressing, but I can't deal with either at the moment. Instead I have to speak with Madame Hooch, whose office I'm just outside.

When I got back from Christmas Break, along with hearing all the rumors of my newly discovered bisexual nature, I was told that Madame Hooch wanted to speak with me in her office. As the faculty head of the Quidditch program all matters related to the game here at Hogwarts go through her, professional contract offers included. It could be something else, but I'm hopeful that is why I was called here.

The office door is open when I get there, so I poke my head in and knock on the open door. "I was told you wanted to see me, ma'am?" I ask Madame Hooch, who is sitting at her desk inside.

"Ah, Chang, yes, come in." I do as asked and go in, sitting down. "I've heard you want to play professional Quidditch."

"That's correct," I confirm.

"Good, because you've got a chance to. The first offers from professional teams are in and three of them have your name on them."

"Three?"

"That's right, three. I suppose we might as well start at the bottom of the pile: the Chudley Cannons. They're offering a five-year contract, with you guaranteed to start for all five years."

A long contract, especially for a rookie, and all guaranteed starts. It's a big risk for a team to take on an untested player. On the other hand, it's the Chudley Cannons, which means it could be five winless years.

"Not impressed I see," I'm not sure if Madame Hooch read the expression on my face or simply knows that an offer from the worst team in the league is not likely to impress. "All right, how about the Tutshill Tornados? This would only be for one year, though, and no guarantee as to if you'd start in any games."

A very different offer there, from the worst team in the league to one of the best. But only one year, and no guarantee as to if I'd play a single minute? In a year's time I could be left with a contract that's run its course and no playtime to help me find a new one.

"The third offer is from the Appleby Arrows. It's for three years, guaranteed starts the first year, but they only guarantee a quarter of the games in the last two years. In effect, one and a half years of starts guaranteed."

The Arrows are a mid level team, but the word is that they're looking to move up and are spending the money to make a serious run at a championship. The guaranteed year gives me an audition for that; a paid audition.

"Just out of curiosity, what kind of money are the Arrows offering?" I ask.

"One point two million galleons over three years, plus two hundred thousand galleons as a signing bonus.," Madam Hooch replies.

All right, an exceedingly well compensated audition. The signing bonus alone would take the average person forty years to earn. "That's a lot of money," I comment.

"I agree. For a rookie, it's one of the biggest I've seen. If I might give you some advice?" I nod. "It's a great offer. A team that's going places, wonderful money and guaranteed play time. If you can make something of the first year, then the team is almost certain to renew your contract, which means more money and a real shot at a championship. And looking like you do, endorsement deals are a lock if you go somewhere in your first year. I'd take the contract and call myself the luckiest girl on a broom."

"It's a rather easy choice, yes. So where do things go from here?"

"I have a lawyer friend who looks over these contracts for students here. Now, if you'd like to use your family lawyer you're welcome to do that too."

"No, it's fine, I'll trust the lawyer you know." I can just imagine how trying to use my parents' lawyer will go. A man I've never met (I assume it's a man, but maybe not, who knows), who works for my parents. "Just what is there for a lawyer to find in a contract anyway?"

"It's just a precaution, in case of anything unusual or punitive is in the contract. It's rare, but now and then there are clauses that can be problematic, or even outright deal breakers. Mainly it's just so you know what you're committing to before you sign."

"Fair enough. So what's the process going forward?"

"As I said, I'll have a lawyer look the contract over, which should take a few days. Once that's done I'll tell you what he finds, and if you're still interested we'll schedule a meeting with the team. They'll come here and that's when the actual contract signing occurs. Barring anything unexpected you should be officially a professional player in a week's time."

A week and it'll be over; I'll have my dream job and a staggering pile of gold. It's almost unbelievable.

 **Hermione**

Christmas was very nice, at home with my parents and Pansy. It was nothing extravagant, a rather low key Christmas really, but I enjoyed it. I don't know if Christmas was usually a bigger thing at Parkinson Manor, it probably was, but if so Pansy never said a word. She was her usual perfect self as far as my parents were concerned. Actually, she seems to have adjusted to this sort of life, as well as she can at least.

I know it must hurt Pansy's pride to be financially dependent on my parents. I worry about her going forward. She needs a job, a career really, and I worry she isn't giving it much thought. I've pushed her some, but she hasn't budged much at all.

I can understand her reluctance; for virtually her entire life Pansy thought she'd never need a job, probably never even gave the matter of work a single thought. When you're the heiress to a fortune, why think about a job. Things are different now, of course. I'm not sure what Pansy can do for work. She's certainly bright enough to be able to do most anything, in theory, but in reality it's hard to think of a job that she wouldn't find annoying, stupid or beneath her.

It's not that I can't sympathize; I'm having my own issues picking a career. So many professions run through the government, the Ministry of Magic, which is hardly an organization I have a wonderful impression of, for so many reasons. Their treatment of marginalized races in the magical world, their denials of Voldermort's return and their campaign against Harry, there's plenty of easy reasons to not trust them.

There was a time I might have been content doing magical research, or maybe run a rare book store or something like that, but not anymore. Pansy said she expected big things of me, and while I'm not ready to overthrow the government like she's teased that I one day should, I'm finding it hard to accept a future as a Ministry employee or some librarian either.

Still, if I have to, I will. For all my pushing of Pansy, if worse comes to worse and she simply can't or won't find a job she can live with, I'm prepared to support us both, even if it means a job at the Ministry. I won't tell Pansy that, of course, but if it comes to it, I love her enough to swallow my pride and find a way to support us both. Obviously it'd be easier if I didn't have to, but I'm not sure if Pansy's favorite things like being rude, insulting people, and catfights leading to adult lesbian situations will translate to paying work very well.

I imagine next year I'll get a job offer or two, of the sort I'd rather avoid but may have no choice but to take. I'll have to stall on deciding, hoping that something better comes up, that Pansy finds something or I find something that isn't just drudgery to pay the bills. It's depressing, and I'd rather not think about it. Maybe I can avoid thinking about it until summer.

But breakfast comes first. Pansy and I walk down the stairs to the common room expecting to meet Harry and Ron so we can go down to eat, but instead Professor McGonagall is waiting for us.

"Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, if you will come with me please? You are both needed in the headmaster's office," she greets us.

"What's going on, professor?" I ask.

"As I said, you are both needed in the headmaster's office."

All right, apparently we don't get any more answers. I look at Pansy, we trade shrugs and then follow Professor McGonagall to the headmaster's office. I'm not sure why Professor McGonagall won't tell us, but either way, we'll know soon enough.

When we get to the headmaster's office, Professor Dumbledore is already there, sitting behind his desk, with someone I've never seen before standing next to him.

"Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, good morning," Professor Dumbledore greets us. Most teachers here (Professor Snape being the exception) still refer to Pansy by her former last name, and she's been in no hurry to pick a new one, despite being legally disowned from the Parkinson family.) "This is Mr. Pearson, from the Ministry of Magic."

"The Ministry?" I ask.

"What'd you do?" Pansy gives me a playful smirk.

"Nothing."

"There is a letter here from the Interim Minister of Magic that I think will explain things much more succinctly than I can," Dumbledore holds out a letter to me.

"The Minister? What the heck are you into, Hermione?" Pansy looks at me.

"I'll tell you in a minute." I open the letter and start reading.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _As you have made abundantly clear, the matter of Parkinson Manor and the associated properties and items are of prime concern to you. While I still maintain that this is unwise and the cost will be far greater than you will be comfortable with in the final analysis, I have chosen to acquiesce to your demands in this matter._

 _The relevant laws have been passed and ownership of Parkinson Manor, the Parkinson name and all the various properties and assets of the Parkinson family have now been transferred to Pansy Parkinson (name restored), who has been legally declared an adult and therefore legally allowed to inherit and manage the assets of the Parkinson family._

 _With this letter I have dispatched a Ministry official with the paperwork for Miss Parkinson to sign. I trust this satisfies your needs and consider the matter settled._

"He actually did it," I mutter to myself.

"Who did what?" Pansy asks.

"Oh, that's actually a bit of a story, you see. I know all that you gave up to be with me, and I was truly moved, but I wish you didn't have to lose all that you did. And I know life as a more normal person with a regular job and career and whatnot isn't exactly something that you were looking forward to, so I've been working on something with the Minister. I've been trying to get all the Parkinson assets taken from your parents and given to you."

"What, you pull one of those Muggle guns on him or something? Because that's just not how things work."

"Yes, yes, I know, people said that, but the Minister is interim, you see, and wants to be permanent, so with an election coming he was a man who was in need. After the end of last year when we were declared heroes and all that, we were valuable to someone up for election so I used that influence."

"You blackmailed the Minister of Magic?"

"Interim Minister, and I did not blackmail so much as make a deal whereby we both got something we wanted. He gets the support of heroes and gets to look tough on Voldermort and dark wizards and all manner of threats and I, well, technically you, get all the Parkinson assets. I believe they were considered assets of a terrorist organization and seized and returned to the first available non-terrorist heir."

"I'm not a Parkinson heir," Pansy points out.

"Yes, well, I believe it was explained that at the time that you were removed they were already part of a terrorist conspiracy so your removal was in furtherance of that and therefore illegal and thus null and void."

"Seriously? Who came up with that crap?"

"I did. And it doesn't need to sound good, it's law now."

"How did that get put into law?" Pansy demands.

"I don't know the details. Favor trading, I assume. He said the cost was high and I might not be happy with it, but what it costs him has not been a major concern for me. The Minister seemed unhappy about it, but he got it done, he gets to look tough for the voters, and you get Parkinson Manor. The details are not something I'm focusing on; I'm taking more of a big picture approach to this, you see."

"There are some forms to sign, of course," Dumbledore cuts in. "And then a brief inspection and a sign off on all assets being present and accounted for. I will accompany you both to Parkinson Manor for the tour. Obviously this will take you out of class, but I expect we should be back in time for dinner, so you should not fall too far behind in your studies."

Pansy spends the next while signing forms that Ministry person brought. It feels like it takes easily an hour, and she must sign her name over a hundred times. I don't try to read the forms or even look at them. For all I know it's the same form a hundred times. Obviously the Parkinsons have a great many assets, this must be for all of them, individually or in bunches.

Finally, all the forms are signed and it's time to go.

"Very well, I will be taking you both to Parkinson Manor," Professor Dumbledore starts. "We will leave school grounds and then I will Apparate us there. Miss Parkinson will have an opportunity to make an assessment things, make sure all are in order and then sign off to that effect. Additionally I would suggest changing whatever wards or other security measures are in place to secure the grounds."

Professor Dumbledore walks Pansy and I out of the castle and off the grounds (Hogwarts own wards prevent Apparation onto or off of the grounds, of course) and we vanish, reappearing in front of a gatehouse, flanked on both sides by tall hedge walls.

"You have a gate house?" I ask the obvious question.

"Of course. How else are you going to get on and off the grounds?" Pansy replies.

The gates open for Pansy (of course they do, once she signed all that paper work in Professor Dumbledore's office she became mistress of the manor) and we go through. The grounds of Parkinson Manor are massive. Seemingly endless manicured lawns, gardens and a tree lined path leading to a huge manor house in the distance. I can't even begin to guess what this all would be worth in Muggle dollars. Tens of millions? A hundred or more? It's almost certainly the latter.

"This is all yours?" I ask.

"Yeah, Parkinson Manor's big, bigger than Malfoy Manor actually. The Malfoys wanted to be close in to the Ministry see, figured it'd keep them closer to power or some crap. But land and all that's more expensive closer in, so they have less land and a smaller house. We're way out in the middle of nowhere here, so my ancestors got all this stuff," Pansy explains.

After we walk up Pansy's almost comically long driveway we get to the house. Inside it looks like something you'd see on a TV show detailing a royal estate, or maybe a five star hotel; the opulence is on a level I've never seen in person.

"We'll have to have Christmas here next year. Your parents' place is great and all, but it's only fair I take a turn, right? Can put them up in the guest wing," Pansy comments.

"I'm sure they'll enjoy that," I agree. "They might find being served be a staff of house elves a bit off-putting, however. They're hardly the sort of graceful creatures most Muggles think of an elf as being." To say nothing of my own distaste for the enslavement of the species.

"Ugh, I forgot all about those things. Dumb bastards probably are in mourning my idiot parents aren't still in charge here. Got to get rid of them; last thing I want is hearing how I'm a blood traitor or whatever the hell they'd call me every time I see them."

"Ah. I'm glad you want to let them go, honestly. House elf enslavement is a vile thing. I do hope you don't plan to get new house elves. There must be other methods to upkeep the manor house and grounds."

"Yeah, yeah, bad having slave elves and all that. Really, this is one place Muggles put the wizarding world away. Just look at a house elf; they're ugly little things. Who the hell would want something that looks like that around? But Muggles? They've got French maids. Seriously, have you see those outfits? Great stuff. Got to hire me a staff of hot girls and put them in those outfits. Be some tasty things to enjoy there."

"Pansy, you can't take advantage of people like that," I gasp. House elf exploitation is terrible, there's no way I can let Pansy trade that atrocity for another: the sexual exploitation of people.

"What take advantage? Pay a person enough and they'll gladly agree."

"Pansy," I give my girlfriend a stern look.

"All right, fine, fine, look but no touching. But don't for a second tell me looking is something you wouldn't enjoy just as much as I will."

"Where did you even learn what a French maid outfit is in the first place?" I change the subject.

"The internet." Of course; it figures.

We look through the grand house, room by room, with Pansy checking off various items on the paperwork Professor Dumbledore brought as we go. After a while, I'm starting to see a pattern emerge: we're avoiding a certain room, and as we see more and more rooms it's becoming obvious that the room being left for last is Pansy's own.

Finally, we run out of other rooms to inspect and find ourselves in front of this last closed door. Pansy hesitates just the tiniest bit and then opens the door. The room inside, Pansy's room is quite large and must once have been a very nice room for a girl. Now it's as much carbon ash and debris as someone's room. What little of the walls that haven't been scorched and burnt (presumably with magical fire) were once a pretty pink color. The furniture was probably the best quality money could buy at one point, maybe even antique; now it's splintered and broken. If I didn't know this was a bedroom I might not be able to decipher what the furniture once was. Whatever personal possessions Pansy may have once had are long gone, shattered and burnt.

Pansy makes a small little noise and then turns and runs off.

"Perhaps you should go after her," Professor Dumbledore suggests. "I will remain here and see if I can't mend some of the damage."

I take Professor Dumbledore's advice and go looking for Pansy. She doesn't have much of a head start, but she's running, so she's opened up some distance. I follow the sound of Pansy's high heels on the hard stone and wood floors and then the sound of a door opening. I keep following Pansy outside and see her running into a grove of trees a short distance from the house.

I finally catch up to Pansy in that grove of trees. There's a bench hanging from a tree branch and Pansy is on it, swinging slowly and crying. I sit down next to my girlfriend, taking her in my arms.

"Damn it, they didn't need to do that," Pansy starts. "There wasn't any point, none at all. I mean, what the hell were the odds I'd ever even see my room again?"

"It was bitter, angry people lashing out."

"It was my parents being assholes."

"You have everything that was theirs now. One is in prison; the other is a criminal on the run; it's only a matter of time before they're caught and brought to justice as well."

"They have to pay, Hermione."

"They will. Azkaban is no picnic. Remember, Harry's godfather was there. He doesn't talk about it much, but from what I've picked up it truly is a horrible place."

"That's not good enough, Hermione. They'll make deals, offer up information or other Death Eaters, they'll try all that stupid crap you see in Muggle shows about court cases. They'll drag it out for years and find some way to get off with a slap on the wrist. That's not going to happen. You understand me? It will not."

"Pansy, I know you're upset, how distressing this must be…" I start.

"No Hermione, no talking the angry girlfriend down, no being reasonable, none of that crap. And don't tell me to trust the system or that justice will be done or any of those other lame clichés. I've seen them all in the movies and they're a pile of shit."

If there's to be no trial, that means no arrest, no Aurors, no Ministry involvement at all. It'd be us, Pansy and I who deal with this. There's no way that leads to anything but violence. No, there's no mistaking what Pansy's doing: she's asking me for permission to kill; permission to kill her mother. It should be a request I turn down instantly. It's murder, who gives permission for that? But Pansy's mother is no innocent, she's a Death Eater, guilty of who knows how many crimes. What's more, she hurt the girl I love, and not just today. I haven't forgotten that howler last year, how she disowned Pansy and what her parents said.

"All right," I answer Pansy. I shouldn't have said that, I should have told Pansy no, but somehow when I opened my mouth saying yes was the only answer I could give.

 **Author's Notes:**

This update is much, much later than I had hoped, and I'm sorry about that. It's just been hard to find the time to get this done, both for me and my editor. Work's been pretty hectic for both of us.

For anyone curious what Cho's offer comes to in US dollars it's 12 million over 3 years plus 2 million to sign. I based this off what's been seen in the NFL for very promising rookies. Based on the crowd for the World Cup in the 4th movie there's no shortage of Quidditch fans and if the game is played all across Europe the market for the sport could be roughly the same as football in the US. Maybe somewhat smaller, but not whole orders of magnitude so I'd think.

As always, thanks ot that-fan for help with edits (every section in this chapter needed pretty heavy reworking from the first draft.) Also thanks to everyone who reviews. I really appreciate it.


	12. Armistice Day

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Cho**

Breakfast on the first day of classes in the new term is a bit odd. For one, Pansy and Hermione are absent. For another Ron is absolutely beaming; I can't imagine why. Certainly I have reason to be in a radiant mood: within the week I'll have signed the paperwork making me a professional Quidditch player, but I can't imagine what could have happened to Ron to have him in such a state.

I haven't told anyone outside the Ravenclaw team yet; I planned to announce the good news to everyone here this morning. They're my friends (to varying degrees), so I wanted to make an event of it. It's wonderful news after all, cause to celebrate. I'm somewhat worried about Ron though. I know it's paranoid, but I can't help but feel his grin somehow bodes ill for me.

The newspaper comes and Ron's grin only becomes broader. All of us except him pick up our copies and read. Ron simply waits and watches, however. He watches all of us, but Harry in particular is a fixation for him. Once I actually start reading the paper, it doesn't take me long to see why Ron is behaving the way he is.

Ron was at the site of a Death Eater attack and manage to repel it; he even captured one. It's all very heroic and cause for pride, but the real news is at the end, the identity of the Death Eater Ron managed to capture: the man known as Wormtail.

"You captured Wormtail?" Harry gasps, asking the obvious.

"Damned right I did," Ron replies, the very definition of pride.

"I almost don't believe it," Harry comments. "I know it's in the paper and you say you did, it's just, after this long it's almost like it isn't real. You know what this means, right? They can interrogate him, make him talk about what happen with Sirius; he'll finally be found innocent."

"Yeah, it's great stuff. It was hard not telling you as soon as I got back from break, but this way seemed like it'd be more fun. Shame Parkinson and Hermione aren't here though."

"Yes, where are they?" I ask.

"No idea," Harry answers. "McGonagall was waiting for them in the common room this morning. Not a clue what about."

"Ah. Well regardless, congratulations, Ron. And to you as well, Harry. I hope your godfather is exonerated soon."

"Yes, Congratulations," Fleur agrees.

"I did it without any fancy magic either," Ron brags. "No super rare spells like Hermione reads about, no Unforgivables or killing magic or dark magic or whatever else Parkinson always pushes, I didn't even need any of that flame crap Cho used either."

Of course, Ron's moment of glory has to be used for more than simple pride or vanity; it's a moment to attack Pansy (in abstention) and myself. Such a lovely individual Ron Weasley is.

"What'd you use?" Harry wants to know.

"A stunner. Simple spell a first year would know."

"You got lucky," I comment, not particularly friendly in my tone anymore.

"Just goes to show you, you don't need all that fancy high end stuff some people are big on to win."

"You're a fool if you think first year magic can win against the Dark Lord." Fleur doesn't think much of Ron's new found philosophy of magic either.

"That might sound all wise and stuff, but it's just talk. I got actual results; I took down a Death Eater, and not just any Death Eater, Wormtail. The guy who can get Sirius pardoned."

"Yes, yes, I know who he is and what it means. But one lucky day is just that, luck, like Cho said. You do realize that you can't win a war just with standard spells, no?"

"Yeah, maybe. But you know, maybe a big part of what Death Eaters have going for them is fear. We're all so afraid of that that we don't even try. It's not like they're immune to magic, after all. If we hit them with a spell it works just like if we hit each other in practice."

"Except in practice if you make a mistake you don't die," I comment.

"My sister almost did," Ron answers right back at me.

"When are you going to let that go? It's been weeks, I've apologized, I'll do it again if you like, but at this point I just want to know when you'll stop bringing that up every time we talk or my name even comes up."

"I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it. Maybe when you stop being such an irresponsible attention seeking girl?"

"Fine," I get up and leave. It's a weak line to leave on, storm off I suppose you could say, but the idea isn't to have some memorable words, it's simply to leave. I find Ron Weasley distasteful to be around and more and more I doubt my ability to control my violent urges around him.

I don't know the endgame for all this, apparently neither does he. It seems clear that time will not resolve this, however. Something will have to change the status quo, an unexpected act of forgiveness, an outburst of violence or perhaps some unforeseen event. I suppose I could end it any time, simply let go and lash out, but that's not a thing I want to do. If I'm to use violence, I want it to be because I choose to do so, not simply because of a lapse in control. Granted I'm not perfect on that score by any means, but it's my goal. Besides, violence would burn bridges, a great many bridges possibly, and I'm not prepared to accept that.

I've barely gotten into my inner monologue and out of the Great Hall when I hear a voice calling from behind me. "Cho, wait up," Harry gets my attention from behind.

I stop just outside the room and wait for my boyfriend. I'm a bit reluctant, since there's a fair chance that he plans to discuss the Yule Ball with me. It's not the sort of discussion that can be avoided, I know, but none the less, I'm not looking forward to it.

"About Ron," Harry starts. "I know he sort of harps, but he's just looking out for his little sister. He can be a little overprotective at times, I guess."

"Yes, I've noticed." I'm not in a particular mood to show patience on this subject.

"I know you don't like hearing about it, so I just wanted to say thanks for being patient with him."

"Yes, well, you should tell him the same. I'm trying to be patient, but my patience is not infinite."

"I know, and I'll talk to him," Harry assures me. "There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about, besides Ron I mean."

"The Yule Ball," I state.

"Yeah, the Yule Ball. What happened there?"

"Where would you like to start? With Ron perhaps?"

"Ron? What about Ron?" Harry asks.

"You seriously have to ask? He was there to ruin the evening."

"You're being paranoid, Cho. He couldn't get a date. That's why he was with us. I told you that then."

"That's nonsense and you know it, or should at least. I don't know if Ron tried to get a date or not, not that it particularly matters. By the time that night around he'd decided he was going to meddle for all he was worth. He made a show of being miserable, needing attention any time we'd do anything resembling date activities, and it absolutely had an effect on you."

"He's my friend, my best friend. Of course it affects me if he isn't happy."

"Oh please, that was a performance designed to play on your emotions, to make you choose between him and I. He knew you'd try to make both of us happy and in the process the entire night would be a disaster, and it was."

"So you're blaming Ron for you and Fleur doing… all that stuff people say you did?"

"I'm saying Ron was the instigating factor, yes. By the time Fleur came around the night was essentially a total loss, I was miserable and she was a way out. If not for her I probably would have tried to find some excuse to leave the date early."

"That probably would have been better."

"No Harry, what would have been better is if you would have told either Ron or myself that the other needed your full attention."

"I don't want to turn my back on people like that, Cho."

"Yes, that's quite well known."

After a pause Harry continues. "So what, are you and Fleur a thing now? You know, dating or something?"

"No, we are not. And for the record that kiss was not something I planned or even expected. It simply, happened, as the saying goes. I was outside the Ravenclaw dormitory, about to go inside and Fleur kissed me, no advance warning, she simply did. That's all it was."

"And does she know that?"

"I don't know. We haven't spoken about it."

"Well why not?"

"It's our first full day back, Harry, I simply haven't had a chance. There are other things in my life I have to attend to, you realize."

"Maybe you should. Maybe then everyone can figure out exactly what's going on around here."

Apparently, that's the end of that conversation, because Harry just walks away after that parting line. No questions about what else might have been occupying my time since I got back, no reassurance that his promise to talk to Ron was anything more than a platitude or even promise to investigate my claims of Ron's intention at the Yule Ball for Harry and I, instead Harry simply ordered me to talk to Fleur and report back to him. The onus for everything is on me.

"That looked unpleasant." I hear Fleur say, having obviously been loitering in the shadows.

"Listening in?" I ask.

"Of course, I'm here to keep an eye on you all. I told you at the start of the year, no?"

"I'm not sure this qualifies for the sort of things you were here to monitor."

"I think the goings on of Harry's life are exactly the sort of things Dumbledore wants to hear about."

"You make him sound like a gossip."

"Ah, do I? I think concerned parent is closer to how he feels. Either way, you and Harry were talking about me, so it's only fair I know about it, no?"

"Fair? I don't know about that. It does seem appropriate that we should talk, however."

"Yes, I suppose it is." Fleur pauses, I'm not sure if she's thinking of what to say or simply trying to find the right words in English. "It was a fun evening, I enjoyed spending it with you. And yes, I've never particularly cared about gender for that sort of thing, it's not uncommon for Veela to be open minded that way. But regardless of how it felt in that moment, it was a mistake to kiss you. It's caused so many problems, and I'm sorry."

"So a spur of the moment decision?"

"Yes. Trying to steal you from Harry like that is not something I should do. He's been good to my family. He helped my sister during the Triwizard Tournament when he didn't have to, shouldn't have even. Doing what I did is not how you should repay someone who's done what he has."

"I see. And if Harry wasn't my boyfriend, if it was someone else, someone who you didn't feel you owed a debt to?" I'm not sure if it's relevant, but I'm curious.

"Then things might be different."

I'm at a bit of a loss for how to respond to that. A hypothetical romantic interest from Fleur was an interesting divertissement to examine at some unspecified point in the future, but the issue is much more immediate now, and I don't have a good answer for how to react.

"So what other things have you been attending to?" Fleur snaps me out of the thoughts.

"Hmm? Other things?"

"You told Harry you had other things you were attending to since you got back from break. Anything interesting?"

"Quidditch contracts," I answer. "The first of them are in and I got an offer. Actually, three, but one of them I plan to accept. A lawyer is looking it over now for anything untoward. Assuming it checks out I'll sign and everything will be official by the end of the week."

"Ah, congratulations. You've wanted this for some time, no? Hmm, that would explain why you looked like that at breakfast."

"Looked like what?"

"Like you had a secret you couldn't wait to tell."

"Of course I wanted to tell people. It's great news, something I've dreamed of for years, and it's actually going to happen now. An up and coming team that has a legitimate shot, solid play time guaranteed in the contract, to say nothing of the gold offered. It's a very generous compensation package. It's everything I hoped for. So yes, I wanted to share it with my friends."

"And Ron stole your big moment."

"I hadn't actually thought of it that way." I answer.

"Ah? It seemed obvious to me. You had news, he had news, he went first and upstaged your news so much you didn't even say a word there."

I'd like to call Fleur paranoid or say I'm not so childish, but now that I think about it, she seems dead on in her analysis.

"Regardless, congratulations." And with that Fleur hugs me. Thankfully, that's all she does; no kiss this time.

 **Pansy**

It was dinner time before we got back to the castle. Not like it's a big surprise, the Parkinsons have a lot of assets, a lot to look over and check off the list. A lot of the investments I'll have to spend time looking at later; make sure it's all in places that make money and not funding shit I don't want to fund, that sort of thing. But that's boring crap and it'll take a long time, so I'll do it later. I don't know if I'll let Hermione help or not. I know she'll want to offer and all that, but I'm not sure.

Yeah, Hermione loves me, and I love her, and I trust her and all, but letting her all over the family finances? I don't know. I guess it's no big thing, I've already made my decision to be with her, but it just feels weird. I mean, it's one hell of a romantic evening, cuddle up by the fire in the common room and go over numbers. Piles and piles of them. Fun. I don't know, Muggles use computers for this shit, maybe there's a reason. Maybe it's easier somehow. I guess maybe I should ask Hermione, since managing wealth is sort of my job now.

It's just sort of weird, letting another person into all the gold and stuff. I don't know why, it shouldn't be, not for Hermione but it just somehow is. Yeah, it's a bit late to have second thoughts about her, and no way is this anything like that, it's more like, two worlds that were never supposed to meet: Hermione, mud blood hated by my family that I got tossed out for, and all the Parkinson shit, the gold and assets and all that.I guess it's stupid, I should suck it up and just ask her, especially about that computer shit. I trust her and all, there's no rational reason not to talk to her about this. Not now though. No point; no computers in the castle so even if they're great shit it wouldn't matter until summer.

So that'll wait. I guess if they're that good maybe I'd need to somehow rig Parkinson Manor with electricity in a few rooms. And the French maids. Definitely need to do that as soon as I get back there.

The old man fixed my room up pretty well. It's not pristine or anything, but a lot of the damage is fixed, most of the broken stuff is repaired. That's nice and all, but I still hate the old man seeing me break down like that. I get why he was there, make sure there's no traps or anything, his responsibility to look after us and all. It'd look bad for the headmaster to have two students die on his watch, after all, especially since all the shit in the paper last year didn't do wonders for his reputation. Yeah, they stopped all that crap and the dark lord actually being back vindicates him, but he still got smeared and a lot of people still remember.

I guess that's not entirely true though, the old man is in the papers some still, even if people don't realize it. There's that Order of the Phoenix that fights the Death Eaters out in public, leaves those burning phoenix marks on the ground and shit. It's pretty obvious the old man runs that order. Hermione, Potter and the idiot weasel can't believe it's really the order doing it, that there has to be something else going on, but whatever the case, it's in the papers and if the old man gets publicly connected to it there'll be some heavy shit coming down on his head.

It's the tail end of dinner at the castle, so it's mainly just the paper to keep Hermione and I company while we eat. That idiot Longbottom is around too, but I'll take the paper as company over him. Sure enough, there's some sort of action on the front page, it's Death Eaters this time though, not the Order.

"Pansy, have you seen this?" Hermione asks me.

"Yeah, yeah, Death Eater attack, big deal," I reply.

"No, read it."

I take the time to actually see what happened, what the details that got Hermione's attention so much are. "Holy shit, the idiot weasel captured a Death Eater?"

"Not only that, it was Wormtail. That means Sirius can be proven innocent."

"Lucky for Potter I guess. And lucky for us we've been gone all day. That idiot weasel probably hasn't shut the hell up about this all day long."

"Yeah, he kind of has made a big deal of it," Longbottom confirms. "He made sure to make a thing at breakfast about how all he needed was a stunner, no um, whatever that stuff Cho does is, and no dark magic."

"What, he picked a fight with Cho?" I ask. I guess he tried to pick one with me too. I wonder if he realized I wasn't there. With that moron anything's possible after all.

"Basically."

"She kick his ass?"

"No, after they argued a bit she just walked away. I don't think she's talked to him since."

"Too bad."

"Really?" Hermione looks at me. "If she did fight him, I thought you'd be upset you weren't here to see it."

"Good point."

"Where were you two all day anyway?" Longbottom asks.

"Parkinson Manor."

"What were you doing there?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but the place is mine now."

"Oh. Well um, that's good. Right?"

Damn, I can't tell if he's too stupid to know if that's a good thing, or too scared of me to risk a real opinion. Worthless idiot either way.

"Yes, it's extremely good," Hermione agrees. "I have to say Ron and Cho fighting isn't though. I'd hoped those two might get past it on their own given time."

"But they haven't, so you want to meddle," I smirk at Hermione.

"You know me so well, dear."

"What's your plan? Cho or the idiot weasel?" There are only two clear choices, Hermione will talk to one of them, possibly both. But even if she means to talk to both, one has to be first.

"I think speaking to Ron will work just fine for this."

"Talking to idiots never works in my experience."

"I have more patience than you do I think, dear," Hermione gives me a sweet smile.

"That or you're just a masochist."

"Honestly it didn't used to feel this hard. We should all be friends, there should be no reason for as much fighting as there is lately."

"Other than the girl weasel almost getting cooked."

"It's time to get past that. Cho lost her temper, yes, and shouldn't have used magic she didn't have total control of against another person, but Ginny shouldn't have provoked her either. And regardless, no one was hurt. Once everyone calmed down they should have all said they were sorry and that would have been the end of it."

"Like this hasn't been a long time coming. I mean, come on, you know the weasels haven't liked Cho all showing off and crap. Ever since we took her shopping and put it in her head that she could and should act like a pin up girl they've been pissy."

"You say that like you're bragging and taking credit. And I think Fleur was a rather large factor influencing Cho's look and mannerisms this year," Hermione corrects me.

"Yeah, fine, whatever, point is the weasels just don't like how Cho is going, and it's going to get worse. I mean, just look at where we're all going."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean look at all of us and where we're going in life. I don't really know crap about Quidditch, just watched because it was an obligation and shit, but Cho seems ok at it, thinks she has a future as a pro. They make good money, and looking like she does, Cho will get endorsements if she isn't a shit player in the pros. The girl's going to be rich.

"The weasels though? No clue what the girl weasel wants to do, but the idiot? An Auror? You don't get rich doing that. Besides, he seems like the sort who thinks getting something because of your looks is cheating or something; thinks you don't earn it if you get something because you're hot. You know, self made man crap, working class hero worship and all that shit. It's dumb, but he seems to buy into it."

"And you think this is really what's at work here?"

"Of course. You really think the girl weasel wants to grow up and be like Cho? Her idiot mother has probably filled her head with shit about how that's not how proper girls dress or act; raised her to be a housewife just like her. Get a husband, pop out a dozen kids and pretend it's a happy life."

"How is being raised to be a house wife relevant?"

"Come on, just look at where we're all going. Unless I really misread you, you plan to live in Parkinson Manor with me. Cho will be off being rich and famous, Fleur will be off doing whatever the hell a succubus does, probably not in some small-time place though. And what about the weasels? Small time shit. Hell, the girl weasel will probably live in that same hovel she does now, inherit it. That or some shit hole just like it. Same with Potter, some boring normal house, boring normal life doing boring shit. We're going in different directions, Hermione, and it's just going to get worse."

Hermione stops and thinks about it. "You might have a point there. We are going in different directions. In half a year Cho will graduate, and whatever her career path, she'll be gone from here. Maybe Fleur will be here next year, maybe not. And she's a Veela, not a succubus."

"Yeah right. Look at the girl; people may like the word Veela but that girl is a succubus, pure and simple." Hermione can't help but smile at that.

 **Ginny**

It's well into the evening before Hermione and Parkinson show up at the common room. Everyone's still awake and around, so those two aren't exactly getting in unnoticed.

"Where have you been?" I demand.

"Yeah, where were you?" Ron asks.

"We were worried," Harry agrees.

"It's fine, we were at Parkinson Manor all day," Hermione replies.

"Where were you doing there?" Ron doesn't like the answer, obviously.

"Wait, that actually worked?" I can't believe it.

"What worked?"

"Hermione's been trying to bully the Minister into giving it to Parkinson here. Been at it for weeks."

"I have not been bullying," Hermione insists. "I've merely been corresponding with the Minister."

"Yeah, because rich pure blood families have their stuff stolen via the mail all the time."

"Regardless, Parkinson Manor and all the family assets were transferred to Pansy. We were at the manor with Dumbledore taking inventory of everything and signing forms. I hear things were busy here as well."

"Yeah, I captured Wormtail. Was over break, the paper just reported on it today," Ron beams.

"That's wonderful news," Hermione praises. "Though I heard there was a bit of a blow up at breakfast about it? Maybe you weren't at your most humble about it?"

"What humble? I just said how I did it. Not my fault Cho didn't like it."

"I was told it wasn't quite that innocent."

"What's it matter? What'd you hear anyway?" I like how my brother tries to brush the whole thing off and then see just how much trouble he might be in, all in the span of just a few words.

"I heard you rubbed it in her face, Ron. Made a point of saying how her magic wasn't needed."

"Yeah, so what?" Ron demands. "Either way, it's true. All I needed was a stunner."

"Ron, this has to stop."

"He has to stop capturing Death Eaters?" I ask.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Hermione corrects me. "I mean this feud with Cho that he has, and that you also seem to have, it has to stop."

"Why?" Ron looks at Hermione.

"Yeah, why?" I agree. "You think we're all just going to be pals and get along? Because yeah, I'm just not feeling it with the Fleur fan girl." That's exactly what Cho is, Fleur's fan girl.

"Enough," Hermione raises her voice; not something she does often with us. "I'm had enough of this stupid war of yours. Yes, maybe Cho chose her magic poorly, maybe it was dangerous, but Ginny, you should know better than to shoot someone in the back like that. And Ron, I understand protecting your sister, but you are going out of your way to keep pushing this fight of yours, far past any reasonable point."

"What's the big deal?" Ron asks. "So I don't like her and say so, so what?"

"So it isn't just that, Ron. I don't know what your problem with her is, if this is all about that fight, if you don't like her dating Harry, some Quidditch rivalry or what, and I'm past caring. There is no reason we should be fighting; this is a great year for us. Pansy has her inheritance back, you captured a major Death Eater, it looks like Harry will get his godfather back soon, we should all be celebrating. Instead you're pitting us against each other and all but forcing everyone to pick sides.

"Well, I refuse. You understand me? I will not choose you or Cho. I will not put up with your harping on that fight, or Ginny on how Cho dresses, or either of you on if Fleur is an example to follow, none of it. It is over. If you want to keep pursuing this you can do it without me. Friends don't ask friends to pick sides like this. So it's time to decide what matters to you more, this grudge or my friendship."

"Wow, I didn't know you were that upset about it, Hermione," my brother apologizes. "Sure, I'll let it go, no problem."

"Yeah, I'll play nice," I agree.

"Of course the idiot weasel agreed; he'd have to do his own homework otherwise," Parkinson mutters.

"Oh shut up," My brother glares at Parkinson.

 **Author's Notes:**

Sorry it's been so long since I updated. May was pretty brutal for work, and when the term finally ended and I'm off I have the fun of picked up some bug and spent a few weeks miserable to one degree or another. Anyway, here it is, I hope you all enjoy. Thanks to that-fan, like always. I couldn't do it without him. Of course, thanks to everyone who reviews too. I appreciate them all.


	13. Friends and Fights

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

 **Cho**

Prefect rounds are something I generally enjoy. A few hours to wander the castle, time to think; it's a good thing. It lets me have time alone with my thoughts without the socially awkward issues of getting lost in internal monologues during conversations where I'm expected to respond.

Unfortunately today, the thoughts I'm lost in are unpleasant, and my brain seems determined to circle back to the same unpleasant places, no matter how much I try otherwise. Fights with Ron Weasley (real or imagined), fights with Harry, it's just one thing after another. Hardly how I hoped my last year at Hogwarts would go.

For variety now and then, my mind manages to consider Fleur, pondering if I do have actual attraction to her. If I were single it would be a far more enjoyable consideration; ego affirming even. Capturing the attention of a Veela is certainly something most people would brag about, a sign of their attractiveness and desirability. For me the entire question stands as an indictment of my relationship with Harry, and its general crumbled, decrepit state.

As if by magic (yes, I appreciate the irony of the phrase) I hear the source of my potential Sapphic affections coming up behind me. Technically, it's the sound of high heels on stone, but besides myself only two girls in the castle habitually wear them: Fleur and Pansy, and Pansy is almost certainly with Hermione enjoying their private time.

"Patrols are boring things, no?" Sure enough, it's Fleur. "I always thought so, at least." I can't say I'm surprised she was a prefect at Beauxbatons; she was their champion after all.

"A bit of time alone to think can be a good thing," I reply.

"Don't you get lost in your thoughts enough without several hours a day wandering an empty castle?"

"Sometimes. It depends where my thoughts take me, I suppose. What about you, nothing more exciting to hold your attention than finding me?"

"I thought I told you at the Yule Ball, you certainly something special and exciting."

"I'm flattered." I'm also unsure if she's flirting or just having a small joke at my expense.

"Also there's absolutely nothing to do in this castle at night, and that village is no better."

"You can't Apparate to London or something?"

"I can, but it's a long walk to get outside the wards, and I don't particularly enjoy hiking through the snow at night."

"Ah. Clubbing clothes are bad for that, yes," I agree. "So I'm the next best use of your time then?"

"You sound surprised."

"Perhaps a little. I know prefect rounds aren't the most interesting of things, Hermione and Pansy's usage of them aside."

"There's no reason these rounds have to be boring, not if you have someone to talk to. That seems to be something you need, no?"

"I suppose you have a point there." Actually, someone to talk to is something I've missed of late. The Weasley campaign of annoyance has done real damage in that regard.

"Have you even told anyone about the Quidditch contract?" Fleur asks.

"The Ravenclaw team."

"So not the others."

"I haven't spoken to any of them since breakfast, really."

"I thought not. A pity, but still, what I expected."

"You must be so proud to be right," I deadpan.

"Why would I be? Who wants to be right about their friend being unhappy?"

"Sorry, that was a cynical thing to say. Apparently I'm becoming conditioned to expect the worst in people here."

"No, no, don't apologize. You need a friend. That's nothing to be sorry for. Things should never have gone this far, but that isn't your fault."

Fleur has a point; a friend who I shouldn't expect the worst from is something I dearly miss. I'd like to say a friend with no agenda, but I'm not entirely sure that describes Fleur. Fleur has been coy about her attraction to me, but I feel safe in concluding that if I were single, or even with anyone other than Harry she would have been rather aggressive in her efforts to win my affections. Still, attraction doesn't affect her trustworthiness or value as a friend.

On the other hand, is her attraction really so terrible a thing? My last interaction with Harry ended poorly, and our relationship was in a sorry state even before that. Would it really be so bad if there were an alternative? I've never attempted a relationship with a female, or even gave one any real thought, but I can't say that the idea is repulsive or somehow fatally flawed. It would be decidedly out of my comfort zone, but since the start of last year I've made a point of stepping outside of my comfort zone in many areas and those choices have made me into someone I'm much happier to be. This choice might work out as well.

It's all hypothetical at this point, however. I am still in a relationship, however strained and damaged that it might be. Simply jumping into a new relationship would not be appropriate at all. Harry and I never made any agreement to be excusive, but I doubt Harry ever thought of proposing such a thing; to him it simply is understood. So as long as my relationship still exists in at least some state thoughts of a Veela girlfriend are simply flights of fancy.

"I see my being here is working," Fleur interrupts my thoughts.

"Hmm? What's that?" I fear I was ignoring Fleur while indulging in thought.

"You look happier. Obviously my being here is a good thing for you."

"Maybe it is at that."

Oddly, I hear someone coming; two people in fact. One is in high heels, the other not. "Pansy and Hermione?" I ask, talking to myself. A moment later my guess is confirmed when I see the lesbian couple approaching us from a previously deserted corridor.

"Ah, Cho, I'm glad I found you," Hermione greets.

"Hermione? Don't usually see you during prefect rounds." It's widely speculated that Hermione and Pansy use their time during rounds for intimate encounters. I've never personally seen evidence either way, but the theory does make sense.

"Yes, I was hoping we could speak a bit, and I've been off campus all day. Do you have a moment?"

"Off campus? Where?" Yes, I ignored Hermione's question. Where she was has me far too curious to not inquire about.

"Parkinson Manor. The family name and all the assets were returned to Pansy. We were dealing with the paperwork for it today."

"Ah really? Well that's wonderful, I'm happy for you both, Pansy especially."

"Thanks," Pansy grins. "It's good to be rich again."

"I'm sure." It's something I'll know firsthand soon enough. I won't have anywhere near the sort of fortune the Parkinson family has, but my contract will put well into the range most people would consider as rich.

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Ron," Hermione pulls things back to the reason she sought me out.

"What about him?"

"I've spoken to him about the ongoing issues. He and Ginny will leave it in the past, as I hope you will as well."

"How did you accomplish that?"

"I spoke to him rationally, like an adult."

"She threatened," Pansy chips in.

I appreciate Hermione trying to settle a dispute between two of her friends (three if you count Ginny), but I can't claim to be confident that her efforts will bear fruit. Not that I think she's lying, rather I think all her best efforts and threats will accomplish is abating the worst and most obvious of Ron's efforts; the more subtle and passive-aggressive campaign will remain.

"So you came here to tell me about this armistice, make me play nice, so to speak?" I ask.

"Yes, though I hope it might be more than a sort of cease fire. This has gone on for long enough, after all," Hermione explains."

"It was long enough before Ron made sure to ruin the Yule Ball."

"I know you're upset about that, but for this to work you have to let that go, Cho."

"Because you've never gone to absurd lengths to get the date you wanted on that night."

"I know it's an important night, and as you say, yes, I schemed to make last year's Yule Ball a night to remember, but what's done is done. But no amount of bitterness or holding a grudge will change how this past year's Yule Ball went. So please, we all used to be friends, we should act like that again."

"A 'friend' I've had fantasies of getting in a physical fight with."

"Shame I didn't get to see that. It'd have been fun seeing the idiot weasel get his ass kicked," Pansy comments.

"Ron's rather tall, not the sort you can instantly write off in a fight," Hermione responds to Pansy.

"The odds aren't entirely relevant," I interrupt the couple. "Not that I think my chances would have been poor in a physical confrontation. I've actually gotten rather good at those Muggle martial arts, but you're quite correct that Ron is not small. I think he'd be reluctant about hitting a girl, but once the fight started he'd likely forget that principal quickly. But regardless of the outcome, at least it would have solved something."

"What do you mean, it would have solved something?"

"I mean when a fight is over, it's over. One person wins, the other loses. Maybe they're on the floor, maybe heading to the infirmary, but it doesn't matter; things are settled. There's one person who clearly won and one who clearly lost. It's a finality that's very attractive, especially when juxtaposed against the current situation."

"Well there's a finality to it now," Hermione announces. I rather suspect found my urge to fight Ron and the reasoning behind it are surprising for Hermione, but she seems ill inclined to inquire further at this time.

"You actually believe Ron will honor his word in this?" I ask.

"I do."

"And Ginny?"

"She'll behave as well," Hermione reassures.

Hermione seems quite certain this is over, a sentiment that I find difficult to share, though I keep that to myself. Still, regardless of her odds of success, I'll give her plan a fair chance; I will play nice, as they say. At least until Ron or Ginny fail to do so.

As it turns out, it isn't a Weasley that my next conflict is with. It's a Malfoy. Just outside the Great Hall before breakfast the next morning I come across Draco Malfoy. Since he received his out of school suspension months ago I've barely given him a second thought, and even then only in the context of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Seeing the sneer on his face I instantly miss his absence.

"If it isn't my favorite slant," Draco greets me with a racial slur.

"Ah, Malfoy, how I've missed you," I make sure even he can detect the insincerity in my voice. "It's a wonder how Pansy could have ever left you."

"You think you're so funny, acting like you own the castle, strutting around with your idiot boyfriend, taking advantage of the Slytherin replacement Quidditch team. Well let me tell you, all that is over. There's no more free run of the castle for any of you. So you just watch yourself, Chang. I'm already dealing with the mud blood and that blood traitor whore Parkinson, but I can add you to my list real easy."

"Yes, yes, Malfoy, you're very scary." I patronize him further, but a part of me wanted to threaten him instead. Not to dismiss his weak allusions to a hit list, but to actually tell him that if he and his friends want to try what they did with Hermione that I won't run and hide, I'll put them all down.

"Don't you dare mock me," Malfoy raises his voice. "People who do won't come to good ends." And with that he storms off, apparently having decided I've been sufficiently threatened.

Malfoy has hardly entered the Great Hall before Harry rushes over. "Cho, are you all right?"

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be?"

"I heard Malfoy threatening you."

"Yes, what of it?"

"He's dangerous."

I know I shouldn't, but I can't control myself; I laugh. "Dangerous? Malfoy? Please, he's a meaningless cretin."

"He tried to kill Hermione. Twice. And Parkinson the second time too."

"Yes, Harry, I know. I am Head Girl, I do hear things." Even if I wasn't Head Girl and in the know for major disciplinary actions taken, the entire school heard of that incident. Thirteen students suspended out of school was unprecedented.

"So you should know what he's capable of. He probably knows the killing curse for God's sake."

"Yes, I imagine he does," I agree. "What of it? It isn't particularly difficult to cast."

"Then he can kill you. Don't you get that, Cho? You're a smart girl, what's so hard about this?"

"So what if he can kill me. I'm sure half his house can, at least they know the curse to do it. Again I ask, what of it?"

"So you're in danger. This isn't a joke," Harry insists.

"Oh please. Malfoy wants to hurt or even kill you too, I hardly see you quivering in terror."

"That doesn't mean I just ignore the threat."

"Ignore the threat? I don't ignore, I simply view it as a rather minor threat. Actually, I'm not even at the top of Malfoy's list at the moment. Given that I haven't killed any of his relatives, I rather suspect I'm third, at the highest. Though I suppose it is possible I still rank beneath you. He did allude to the Slytherin replacement Quidditch team and its losses, however, so that may raise my priority as a target, however. So given that, I do think I may surpass you and rank third."

"Cho, this isn't some logic puzzle to figure out," Harry practically yells at me.

"Don't be melodramatic, Harry; it's not like Malfoy is going to kill me in the next few seconds, so analyzing the matter is not the waste of time you make it out to be. Besides, I seem to recall a bit of a tiff about a piece of combat magic I used in the DA, something a certain overprotective halfwit relative harped on ad infinitum?"

"What? This isn't like the DA at all. That's just practice, this is real."

"What about being shot in the back is practice? Which by the way, I thought was something your house was supposed to frown on. Curious how that fact was conveniently omitted from everyone's recollections."

"You're going on about that now? Cho, I think you're really missing the point here."

"Yes, yes, we can't harp on such dishonorable tactics. Though in all fairness how can you harp on something that was essentially never mentioned in the first place?" I don't wait for a response; instead I walk into the Great Hall to get breakfast.

"This has nothing to do with that and you know it." Harry chases after me, raising his voice so I (and the entire Great Hall) can hear him."

"And what does it have to do with? That I can be simultaneously too violent a girl to be around and a helpless damsel? Marvelous talent I have. Or is the former simply a bit of proselytization and the latter your personal opinion?"

"Cho, I really wish you would talk to me like a normal person rather than just using the biggest words you can think of."

I turn on my heel and stare down Harry. "You don't want me to use small words right now."

"Yes I do."

"Oh do you now? Fine." This might be a bad idea, but I'm past caring. "Ron Weasley shovels shit for weeks and you treat it like gold. I'm some violent sociopath too dangerous to be anywhere near, right up until your overprotective urges kick in and them I'm some helpless little girl."

"That's not what I said, Cho," Harry insists.

"Oh yes it is. You never once stood up for me against all of Ron's crap. And then you think I should cower in terror from Draco fucking Malfoy? I didn't cower in the last Quidditch game I played against him, and I won't start now."

"You were hurt in that game."

"That was nothing, a few broken ribs. And then you try and make a huge production of it. A bit hypocritical there, Harry? Maybe you remember something about Dementors during a game?"

"Just because I did something doesn't make it a good idea or an example to follow."

"No, but it does make you a hypocrite if you act like that and then try to be some overbearing mother hen."

"I am not a mother hen," Harry insists.

"Yes you are. Though that hardly is my point."

"What is your point anyway? You seem to just ramble on about Ginny and Ron and then curse at me. Which by the way is weird; girls other than Parkinson aren't supposed to do that."

"You wanted small words. Four letter words qualify I think."

"Oh come on, Cho."

"No, you treat me like some unhinged danger to everyone around me, and then a helpless girl, then you complain about how I speak. It's enough already, Harry. I am not a little girl; in point of fact I am one year older than you, it's time you acted like it."

"Why are you so difficult today? I mean really. All I said is to be careful, what's the big deal about that? Can't you be reasonable here? You probably didn't even talk to Fleur like you said you would."

"Like I said I would? I said no such thing. Actually you ordered me to. As in, how one speaks to a subordinate, not a friend, girl or otherwise."

"Fine, whatever, I'm sorry. I was upset."

"Yes, very convincing, Harry."

"Damn it, what do you want from me, Cho?"

"What about a little sincerity? Perhaps taking my side once, maybe even telling someone slandering me to put a stop to it? Not taking me for granted, perhaps even taking my word on a matter without requiring further evidence? Honestly I can't claim to have felt any respect from you for weeks now. Instead I'm ordered around like some servant. And Merlin forbid you simply believe me when I tell you about what happened with Fleur or take the tiniest interest in my life."

"Take an interest in your life? What am I not interested in?"

Nothing, Harry. Nothing at all." I haven't told Harry about the Quidditch contract, and obviously that will not change here.

I sit down at a vacant area of the Ravenclaw table, the first time in a long time I haven't sat with Harry. Thankfully, my vexatious boyfriend takes the hint and goes to his own table to eat. A moment of peace at last.

 **Hermione**

Lunch looks to be as awkward an affair as breakfast was. Pansy and I sat at the Gryffindor table like usual, though Cho and Fleur were at Ravenclaw. We heard all about Harry and Cho's fight from Harry. To hear him tell it, it was an unprovoked and baffling assault by an emotional girl without even the most basic sense of self preservation.

Harry and Ron are already at the Gryffindor table, while Cho and Fleur are once again at Ravenclaw. I head for the Gryffindor table, but Pansy's hand on my arm stops me.

"No. No way in hell we're doing that again."

"Doing what?" I ask.

"Sitting with Potter and the idiot weasel. Endless fucking whining about how unfair Cho was and how he's a fucking saint. And of course the idiot's backing him up, trying to act like he isn't fucking tickled that the two are having trouble. God, what a fucking dick."

"Harry and Cho had a fight, what did you expect them to talk about?"

"Not the point. I'm not sitting through more of the idiot weasel's gloating. It just isn't happening."

"So what, you want to skip lunch?"

"No, I want to sit with Cho and Fleur," Pansy answers.

"Harry and Ron are my best friends."

"Yeah, and we've been sitting with them since last year. Sure, there's no one in Slytherin I've wanted to sit with, but if there was anyone who wasn't an asshole there we'd have been splitting time, wouldn't we? I don't exactly think I'm being unreasonable here."

"All right, fair point." Actually if Pansy and I were to split time as she said, the way things went I'd owe her the entire rest of the year, easily. So I'll let Pansy have her way on this..

"Mind if we join you?" I greet Cho and Fleur as we sit down.

"Of course," Fleur greets us.

"Not sitting with the Gryffindors?" Cho asks, though 'not sitting with Harry and Ron' is what she clearly means.

"Fuck no; had enough of that shit already," Pansy answers. "Potter maybe, though his account sounded like bullshit. Nothing's his fault and all that crap. But whatever, I've heard that shit a million times before. The idiot weasel though, God, fuck that guy. So proud and self righteous, like he's all proven right and Harry's seen the light and shit."

"Come on, Ron didn't say anything nearly approaching that," I disagree.

"Yeah, maybe, but he was thinking it. And it's not like he was that far from saying that crap, you know."

"Thinking it and saying are not the same thing."

"Yeah? Doesn't change the fact that idiot needs someone to set him straight, because his weird bullshit view of the world isn't even close to true. But then, Potter's just as delusional."

"Harry's led an unusual life, you know that. Is it really a surprise his view of the world should be unique?"

"I didn't say unusual, I said delusional and bullshit. There's a difference." I assume that's all Pansy has to say on the subject and is content to let it drop, but instead she continues. "Seriously, you're a smart girl, you must have figured it out. I mean, them? Aurors? You should know exactly what their careers will be like.

"Those two will get the nobody shit jobs, the crap investigations that other Aurors don't want because they go nowhere, they're just crap made up shit like most of the idiot weasel's conspiracy theories, or they're cases about to blow up. That's what Potter will be really good for, being the fall guy. The _Prophet_ slandered him plenty; people will be ready to believe more.

"To the higher ups Potter will be a threat; with his celebrity status, they'll just see someone ready to replace them, so they'll make sure his career goes nowhere. And it's not like Potter will play politics to get ahead; seeing how he took an instant hate to Malfoy is proof of that. So his high and mighty morals will make fast enemies of all the senior Aurors.

"Sure he bumble fucks his way to success sometimes, so yeah, he'll make sergeant, maybe even lieutenant if he's freakishly lucky, but that's it; captain is out. I'm sure he'll tell himself that he's making a difference with every case he solves and every person he helps and shit like that, and you know he'll go on about how when the spells start flying it's him the other field Aurors listen to, not the captains, but so fucking what. He'll be a nobody outcast like Mad Eye Moody that in the end changes nothing, accomplishes nothing and winds up a cautionary tale for new Aurors."

"That's a, um, a rather bleak prediction," I finally answer.

"You think I'm wrong? I know you've warned him about the Ministry and the fact that they'd like to see him just plain go away."

"I've warned him as well," Cho interjects. "He dismissed it as paranoia."

"See? Total dumb fuck."

"I think you might be letting your personal feelings for Harry and Ron color your predictions, Pansy," I point out.

"What, because I think they're dumbasses and like Cho more than them? So what. I'm still right. I mean really, let's face it, our futures are not that hard to predict."

"Ah, so you know my future then?" I challenge Pansy.

"Yeah, yours isn't hard. The way I see it, it can go one of two ways. One, you're at Parkinson Manor with me, you work to change the wizarding world, do what you can, yeah, you use the Parkinson money. I'd say influence, but we kind of have jack shit for that in the wizarding world now that I'm in charge. We do have money though, and yeah, I'll let you use that; as long as you don't bankrupt us. Now normal pure bloods could have benefits and charities and shit, but again, not gonna happen here. So basically you'll do what you can and sure, it'll help some, but in the end it won't change the world. That or you finally take over the country like I keep saying you should."

"You want Hermione to take over the nation?" Cho asks.

"This is new," Fleur comments.

"Nah, not new at all; I've been telling Hermione she should do it for months now. She hasn't gone for it yet, but I think it's just a matter of time. The girl's got potential there."

"Thank you for your high praise," I cut off that particular line of discussion. "And your somewhat bleak prediction for my future as well."

"Hey, you'll be with me in Parkinson Manor. That's not a bad life at all."

"As amusing as it would be to hear Pansy's predictions of my future, I think I can predict it on my own: I'll be playing professional Quidditch for the Appleby Arrows." Cho is unable to hide her grin at the news.

"Ah, you were offered a contract?" I ask the obvious question.

"That's right; Madame Hooch told me the day we got back from Christmas break," Cho replies.

"Ah, congratulations." As soon as I say it, however, another thought strikes me. "Wait, you knew right when we got back from break? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Ron's news about Wormtail preempted me, then things went downhill after that. And of course Harry never bothered to ask about what was going on in my life or what I was preoccupied with."

"Shit boyfriend, eh?" Pansy asks with a surprising amount of sympathy. "Guess Potter and Draco are both shit. Makes sense in a funny kind of way, like symmetry, you know? Both are so obsessed with themselves that they don't give a fuck about anyone else."

"While I do love symmetry of situations, but in this case it's not precisely so. You make it sound as if Draco is self absorbed, which I must say, is unsurprising. With Harry it isn't that, it's more there's a filter on what information he chooses to process. Is someone talking about something Harry really cares about, like Voldermort? Is Ron Weasley speaking? Unless the answer to one of those questions is yes then odds are whatever is said will be filtered out."

"I thought Harry really cared about Quidditch though?" I sidestep the core of Cho's point.

"A lot less so now that the Gryffindor team is in no danger of winning the cup."

There's no doubt Harry can have tunnel vision, as Cho suggests, but at the moment I think her judgment is colored by their recent argument to a large I don't think it's nearly as bad as she says. But then to be fair I thought Harry was somewhat exaggerating the situation when he told us about the fight at breakfast; the truth is no doubt somewhere in between.

But I'll be sympathetic; after all, Cho is my friend, and Pansy obviously likes her more than Harry. Still, if I'll be eating all my meals at the Ravenclaw table with Cho, Fleur and Pansy I'm sure I'll be hearing about it from Harry and Ron.

 **Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the long time between updates. Just how things went. Anyway, thanks to that-fan for his help like always. Also thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. It's much appreciated.


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